Major Misconduct
by m7707
Summary: Edward Cullen - hot high school hockey player. Bella Swan - shy high school student. They've admired each other from afar, so what happens when they finally meet? Will they be strong enough to handle a threat from his past? No good deed goes unpunished...
1. Chapter 1: Starting Lineup

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, me Major Misconduct**

**Huge with a capital U thank you to my betas silentnc and Sarahsumbrella - they've agreed to stick with me and that means more than I can say.**

**This is rated M for language, adult situations (citrus), and violence. It's all BPOV.**

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**CHAPTER 1: Starting Lineup**

I officially met Edward Cullen the first day of my junior year in high school.

I'd known who he was, of course, since we were freshman. Even then he was abnormally cute and charismatic, while the rest of us wrestled with our awkward teenage uglies. I'd seen him mostly from a distance, in the halls, the lunchroom, those really stupid pep rallies. I mean, seriously, how can your force someone to have school spirit? We just didn't run in the same crowd – he was tall, talented, smart, and stunningly gorgeous – and exceptionally good at sports. Hockey was his jock of choice. He was some sort of prodigy, a superstar on the ice. I was short, had no talent (other than really bad luck), smart, and let's face it, plain – and exceptionally good at being clumsy. Shyness was my attitude of choice.

Gossip and sighing admirers followed him everywhere. Yeah, I listened to all the rumors about him – I just couldn't help myself. I found myself fascinated whenever I heard his name mentioned; the kid was just so amazingly good-looking and kind of intriguing. He seemed quiet, not the stereotypical loud, obnoxious, self-esteem grabbing high school jock. Edward Cullen was one of those figures you noticed no matter how hard you tried not to – whether you wanted to admit it or not. I found myself checking him out in the hallways, just as much in awe of his tall, lean figure, tousled dark bronze hair, and piercing green eyes as the next hopeless groupie. I had a Hollywood movie star kind of reverence for him – those beautiful, practically fictional creatures were not for common folk to mingle with, and neither was Edward Cullen.

The Cullen family consisted of Dr. and Mrs. Cullen, Edward, and his older brother Emmett. They lived on the north side, the good side of town. It was miles away in circumstance, if not distance, from our solidly middle class neighborhood. My dad was the Chief of Police in our small town, and while it afforded him a bit of notoriety, it certainly didn't lend itself to a salary that put us in a league with a well-known doctor. I knew Dr. Cullen pretty well, unfortunately. He was head of the Emergency Department at the hospital. We had frequent occasions to meet; I think I mentioned I had a tendency toward klutziness. Dr. Cullen had those blond, movie star good looks about him, too. I think he considered me mentally deficient as well as clumsy, though, since I could never speak in complete, coherent sentences around him. Mrs. Cullen was an interior designer. She had this amazing store downtown that I stuck my head in once and left immediately for the safety of all the lovely things inside. Both she and the store looked like something from a fancy magazine. Emmett Cullen was a few years older than I was, and had been an All-American quarterback, kind of like an All-Star, at Forks High School before going on to play at some big college in California. Both of the Cullen boys were wildly popular and sought after. Their good looks, money, and physical attributes assured them of that.

So, when I trudged through that fateful first day of school, my first day as a junior, I wasn't expecting my life to change. I made it through the first round of classes before lunch, happy, at least, to see that I had a couple of classes and lunch period with my best friends, Angela and Alice. I'd grown up with Angela, and Alice had moved from somewhere in Alaska, of all places, this past summer. Although Alice came more from the Cullens' world than mine, we had become great friends over past few months.

The three of us sat together at lunch, and I cornered Alice, who had been vibrating and jumping out of her skin with anticipation to tell us some news.

"Okay, already, what's up with you?" I asked, twisting the lid off my Coke.

I watched in amusement as she grinned, scrunching her neck into her shoulders and giving a short squeal. She was my exact opposite, happy, enthusiastic, and outgoing, but for some reason we were very close friends. She was short – shorter than me, even – with cropped black hair that shouldn't look good on anybody of the female gender, but just seemed to fit her small, fine features.

"I met someone." She clapped her hand over her mouth in glee, like she couldn't believe she'd said anything. Excited? You bet.

Angela and I eyed her warily. "Met someone? Who? When?"

She tossed her head back and laughed, bouncing in her seat and tucking her hands under her thighs. "Oh, you know him, or at least I think you do." A frown crashed down over her features, and then her face lit back up with happiness. "Doesn't matter, you'll know him now! I met him a couple of weeks ago, you know, when I went to Port Angeles and got those shoes. The red ones? Anyway…" she flicked her fingers dismissively at our blank looks. "I was at the mall, and went into the music store – there's a CD I wanted – and there he was, in the alternative section. He was looking at the CDs, too, all intense and serious and hot as hell." She did the shoulder scrunch thing again and laughed.

Angela and I exchanged bewildered glances, shrugging at each other. "And…?" I prompted when she just sat there grinning at us.

"And, silly, we ended up staying in the store forever. Just really talking back and forth – he's hilarious – then going and getting a drink in the food court. We were there for hours." She bobbed her eyebrows. "We've been out a few times since then. God, I've been dying to tell you!"

"Who is it? Why didn't you say anything before? Someone in school here?" Angela asked.

Alice leaned forward conspiratorially, and we found ourselves following her in, intrigued. "Jasper Whitlock," she whispered. She let out an undignified squeal and sat back in her chair.

"Jasper Whitlock?" Angela breathed in disbelief. I couldn't say anything—my face was frozen in shock.

"Yep." Alice looked completely smug at our stunned reactions.

"But…he's gorgeous," Angela stammered.

Alice scowled. "Yes, he is. Thanks a lot!"

Angela blushed. "Oh, Alice, you know I didn't mean it like that! You are, too, it's just…" her voice trailed off and she look at me frantically for help.

I had nothing. I was still trying to wrap my brain around the fact that Alice had used the words "Jasper Whitlock" and "hilarious" in relation to one another. Jasper was tall, brooding, and looked like a bad-ass (albeit a gorgeous one) with his thick, shaggy blond hair and dreamy grey-blue eyes. He was always so serious and intense with his music and rock-star attitude. Hilarious was not a word I would have associated with him. His father was some big-wig retired military guy and they lived right around the corner from the Cullens. Jasper and his sister Rosalie grew up with the Cullen brothers, and he and Edward had been best friends since forever. Rosalie was Emmett's age and stunningly, perfectly gorgeous. She had graduated with him a couple of years ago, probably off to start a supermodel career or something. She and Emmett Cullen were legendary in the annals of our high school. They should have been a poster couple for teenage pregnancy, if even some of the rumors were to be believed. To solidify the legend, they made it out of high school with no Rosalie or Emmett Juniors, still together and off to fulfill Emmett's legacy as the next Peyton Manning or whatever.

Alice was actively scowling at us now, which was not a natural expression for her. "Well, I told him I wanted him to meet you guys. He should be here any second. You had better be nice and not embarrass me or I'll kick both your asses!" She could, too. She was small, but she could be downright scary.

"Here?" Angela squeaked, and I managed to snap my mouth shut.

"Yep." And then her face just, well, lit up again. She waved over our heads and we turned, still somewhat stunned, as Jasper Whitlock himself strolled up to our table with a full lunch tray in his hands.

"Hi," he said quietly, leaning down to kiss her cheek before turning to us. I had to snap my mouth closed once more. "Hi," he said again, this time to us. A friendly smile tugged at his mouth, and wasn't he just cute as hell? "Mind if I join you today?"

Angela and I both shook our heads dumbly, and he pulled out the chair next to Alice. She beamed up at him—he had to be well over a foot taller than she was—and took his hand. "Jasper, these are my friends I was telling you about. This is Bella, and this is Angela."

"Hi Bella, Angela. It's a pleasure to meet you both." He took each of our limp hands and shook them briefly. Did he have a faint southern accent? Kill me now.

Alice shot us another scowl that was plainly a warning to quit acting like brainless zombies.

"Um, hi," Angela managed.

I took a breath to shake off the surprise that had lingered over me since the beginning of this odd conversation, and womaned up.

"It's nice to meet you, too, Jasper. Sorry, Alice just told us about you. It's a good surprise," I grinned at him.

He smiled back, and just like that we were all easy with each other. We talked through lunch about a variety of subjects – I think we were all surprised at how it felt like we'd been doing it for years. He was incredibly smart without being annoying about it. As lunch ended we left for our separate classes, Alice still holding hands with Jasper. She sent us a grin and a wink over her shoulder as they walked down the hall.

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**Join us next week, when Bella realizes:**

**Oh my God, I just felt up Edward Cullen in the middle of Biology class.**


	2. Chapter 2: Hand Pass

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, what's left is mine.**

**Sarahsumbrella and silentnc beta and make this better. Thank you.**

**A little clarification: this is all from Bella's POV, it is all human, and although the characters are in high school, it is an adult story intended to be read by those over the age of consent. There will be content in future chapters that is not appropriate for young 'uns not of legal age. There, I feel better now.**

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**CHAPTER 2: Hand Pass**

I went into fifth hour Biology with a smile on my face, happy for my friend, and plopped down at one of the empty stations. Mike Newton was in this class, and he called my name from where he was sitting at one of the other lab tables. He pointed to the empty seat next to him when he had my attention, but I just waved and shook my head slightly. As I pulled my notebook out of my bag, I saw Jessica Stanley take the seat next to Mike, and kept my head down. Jessica had been crushing on Mike since forever. If that was her thing, let her have at it.

The bell rang and I opened my book, noticing vaguely that the seat next to mine was still empty. Mr. Banner started sorting through materials to hand out, and I felt a current of air wash over me. It smelled like outdoors – sunshine, fresh air, something tangy – and a body thumped down on the empty stool. I realized with a shock who was sitting next to me as I heard Mr. Banner's disapproving voice.

"Mr. Cullen. Late the first day of class?"

Edward Cullen gave Mr. Banner an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I left my textbook in my locker." His voice was rich and as smooth as velvet. I smiled slightly in pleasure, my eyes still on my notebook, not daring to look at him. And here I'd thought Jasper's voice was amazing… My heart thumped heavily and I stared determinedly down, not ready to even risk a glance at him. I might never be ready – I knew I'd end up making a fool of myself. Edward Cullen was actually sitting next to me, only a few inches away. I started to hyperventilate.

"I've got some material to pass around. Take a look, and we can discuss any questions you have for the upcoming semester." Mr. Banner handed out stacks of paper, moving through the classroom.

My new lab partner turned to me with a faint smile. "Hello, I'm Edward Cullen. I don't know if we've ever been formally introduced."

Wow, he was polite, too. Of course I knew his name, but I was sure he had no idea who I was. I forced my eyes up to meet his.

"Um, yeah, probably not," I managed. As I had feared, my eyes stuck to his amazing face. Holy…hell. "I'm Bella, Bella…"

"Swan," he finished softly for me, the half-smile still on his face. It made my insides curl a little, and did I just lick my lips? Argh.

"Um, yeah." God, was I a brilliant conversationalist or what? I wondered if my mouth was hanging open. How did he know my last name?

"Hope you don't mind being lab partners this term. It looks like you're stuck with me." He still faced me, and I stared at the slight curl of his mouth.

"No, no. I don't mind." I'd never had the opportunity to be this close to him, let alone have him speak directly to me. I was totally staring.

"Good." He leaned in and whispered, "I'm glad you're not pining away for Newton or anything."

A horrified snort burst out of me, and I clapped my hand over my mouth. I flushed deep scarlet, both from his words and my embarrassment at the sound. He grinned and finally sat back. I cursed my easy blush for about the billionth time in my life.

Tuning Mr. Banner out – Biology was a subject I was pretty good at – I spent the next few minutes sneaking looks at Edward Cullen out of the corner of my eye. I could practically feel the warmth from his body so close to mine, and he smelled _delicious_. I found myself leaning forward over my textbook and breathing deeply, sucking in his scent and closing my eyes in delight. What the heck was that about? I hoped he didn't notice or think I had some weird respiratory issues. I took another quick peek at him and found myself hypnotized. He was rubbing his thumb slowly over his full lower lip, back and forth, back and forth. I wanted it to be _my_ thumb. Or finger. Or tongue…uh-oh.

Look away, my brain commanded. Don't stare at his mouth. _Don't stare!_ But I looked at his eyes instead, and that wasn't any better. Up close they were a devastating green, deep and clear. A shock of hair fell over one eye and he pushed it back absently, running his fingers through the crazy, beautiful bronze mess at his temple. It was the most amazing color, rich brown touched liberally with red and gold. It was a little too long and stuck up all over his head, yet it all came together just right. I would have thought he spent hours trying to achieve that perfectly casual disarray, but up close I could see…well, it just fell that way. It wasn't fair. If I tried it, my hair would look like a frickin' haystack.

I'd never been this close to him before. I'd always had the inexplicable feeling he had super human powers or something, that he could sense my desperate and futile attraction to him. I had this really annoying habit of blushing and running away anytime we had the most casual of contact, like passing in the hall with an impersonal smile, or getting to the garbage in the cafeteria at the same time. He was even more amazing-looking up close – how was that possible?

I knew I was staring at him like a moron, but I literally couldn't help myself. His pale skin looked so damn _touchable_. The sharp blades of his cheekbones were naturally highlighted with faint color; it made him appear just slightly flushed. It was very striking and much unlike my blotchy tomato blush – it was so unfair. My eyes fell to where his arm lay close to mine on the table, long, sinewy, and lightly sprinkled with copper hairs. His hand was huge, with very long, strangely elegant fingers. He was more muscular than I would have given him credit for with my sneaky, secretly admiring glances – his height and grace kept his muscularity from being obvious until you were close to him. Even sitting in the chair he towered over me. I'd have to guess he was well over six feet tall. And oh, man, tall just does it for me—always has—don't know why.

About halfway through the class he started tapping his pen to a beat I didn't recognize, his leg moving slightly in rhythm. Through my intoxicated daze I realized he was paying about as much attention to Mr. Banner's lecture as I was. I noticed his hand kept twitching to some writing in the margin of his notebook, and I squinted slightly, trying to make out the marks. They looked like symbols or something.

"What's that?" I whispered, nodding toward the marks, unable to contain my curiosity. He glanced up at me sharply, and I blushed – yet again – in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, that's really rude. I wasn't snooping, I was just…"

"Relax, Bella," he murmured. "They're not gang signs or anything."

I was drowning in embarrassment. "Really, sorry…"

Those green eyes seemed to search my face. "You do that too much."

Was I drowning before? Now I was positively wallowing. "I know," I admitted miserably. "It's the bane of my existence. I've always been an easy blusher."

His mouth curved up on one side. I made a frantic note to never be funny in front of him, ever, as my focus zeroed in on that mouth and heat curled through my insides. Everything else faded.

"No," he said. "Not the blushing, although it's pretty cute. You apologize too much."

"Sorry." It came out automatically. Wait…what? Did he just say I was _cute_? Am I thrilled or offended?

He laughed out loud this time, and Mr. Banner turned to us with a scowl. "Something amusing you wish to share, Mr. Cullen?"

Edward's eyes danced wickedly at me, and I poked him in the thigh. Then I had to do it again. I thought maybe I'd hit the metal post under the table. No, that hard, firm, unyielding object was definitely his thigh. _Gah_. My hand lingered on his leg and then, without my forethought or knowledge, it slid slowly, tantalizingly higher. Holy hell. He jerked slightly, and I snapped my arm back in mortification. Oh my God, I just felt up Edward Cullen in the middle of Biology class.

_Oh my God._

"Sorry, Mr. Banner." His eyes returned to the front of the room, but that half-smile still lingered on his lips. He leaned over toward me slightly, and when Mr. Banner's attention was elsewhere, he put his mouth close to my ear to murmur, "You _so_ owe me."

My breath caught and held as he didn't move. Owed him for what? Not ratting me out to Mr. Banner, or for groping him in the first place? Oh, God. Through the roaring of my blood in my ears, I thought I detected a strange sound. Was he _sniffing_ me? He straightened suddenly, almost launching himself out of his chair on the opposite side. He held himself there stiffly throughout the rest of the period. I frowned, lowering my head and sneaking a quick look through my hair. What the hell? Did I smell? I had gym after this, so it couldn't be B.O. …could it? I oh-so-casually pretended to scratch my chin on my shoulder, inhaled carefully, and almost sagged in relief. No B.O., and my hair smelled pleasantly of my fruity shampoo. What the hell was that about? I guess I shouldn't complain; I'd been huffing him like an addict earlier and it was much less weird than me copping a feel during class…great. I am officially a freak.

Twenty minutes later the strangest class period of my life ended. The bell rang and we both gathered up our books, not looking or saying anything to each other. He tipped his head at me and moved toward the door, still not saying a word. Was he mad? Disgusted at the poor loser nobody girl whose only chance at getting a thrill was to grab him in class? I followed slowly, wondering how things could have changed so drastically in a few minutes. I had been entertaining the fantasy that he was flirting with me, just a little, at the beginning of class. I tried to be above the giggling groupie thing, but the heat in my cheeks and stomach wouldn't let me lie to myself – I was as thrilled by his attention as the next Edward Cullen zealot.

I froze in horror. Oh, God, could he tell? Maybe he really did have some sort of weird superhuman sixth sense for that? I'm sure he had girls throwing themselves at him all the time, getting silly and stupid over a casual smile or a few seconds of his undivided attention. They probably didn't grab him inappropriately in class, though; I was sure I was unique in that regard. Maybe he didn't need any extra senses after all... I covered my face with my hand and forced my feet forward. My worst nightmare had been realized. I was a swooning, groping fangirl of the hot high school jock.

Lost in the awfulness of my realization, I crashed directly into an immovable object. Of course it was Edward Cullen – there was no mercy in this universe. I started to get irritated. Who did he think he was, just stopping in the middle of the doorway like he owned it, the conceited jerk? Oh, wait. Huh. He was talking to Jasper Whitlock and Alice, who had stopped him in the hall. Like I said, no mercy.

"Bella!" Alice exclaimed. "Do you have Biology with Edward? That's too cool. I wanted to introduce you guys. Edward, have you met Bella?"

He turned to me, wry amusement on his face. "Howdy, partner."

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**Next chapter, Bella thinks:**

_**I was wondering if you'd be interested in going off into the woods behind the school with me and having a wild lick-fest, you beautiful, godlike creature, you…**_


	3. Chapter 3: Power Forward

**Stephenie Meyer still owns Twilight, I still don't, just what's left in this story.**

**Sarahsumbrella and silentnc - my amazing betas - once again, thank you.**

**Thanks to those reading this - and who have followed me over from Tangled Web. It's so much fun to see familiar names along with the new ones! I appreciate everyone who takes the time to send comments and reviews. **

**It's fun to see that so many of us are facinated by a Hockeyward. Is it that there are more women than people think who like hockey, or is it just Edward in a hockey uniform? A little bit of both?**

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**CHAPTER 3: Power Forward**

After school, I found myself draped over Alice's bed, my head buried in one of her large, fluffy pillows. She and Angela sat on the floor looking at me worriedly.

"I'm never going back to school. Never," I moaned. "You can't make me. No one can make me. No one can make me face the humiliation of having to sit next to Edward Cullen ever again."

"Charlie can," Alice pointed out, the bitch.

I sighed, turning my head to face them. "Yeah. Dad. Charlie can." _Shit._

"It can't be all that bad," Alice tried to soothe. Angela was making no such attempt. Ever since I told them about what my hand did during biology class, she'd been kind of sitting there with her mouth hanging open. _Not helping._

"You don't know. You weren't there." I rolled back and forth on the bed in an agony of embarrassment.

"Bella -"

"Alice, I groped him. _Groped_. Him. Edward Cullen. I felt him up – in class." I hid my face again. I reached out blindly to throw another pillow over my head to further bury my humiliation.

"Maybe he didn't notice?"

That brought me out of my cocoon and I glared at her. "Nice try, Alice, but don't bring that weak-ass shit. I had my hand on his thigh. And not down by his knee, either. I moved it up. Slid it up. Slowly. Right up to the top." Was it hot in here? "And I may have curled my fingers." I wasn't sure. I knew had I wanted to. "I don't think there's a chance in hell he 'didn't notice'!"

"Maybe he kind of liked it?" she offered. I threw the pillow at her. "Come on, Bella, don't make it such a huge thing. It may be a big deal to you, but it probably wasn't to him or anything."

"Yeah," I snorted, swinging my legs around to sit on the edge of the bed. I buried my face in my hands. "He probably has girls grabbing him inappropriately at school all the time, like frigging depraved sex addicts."

"It'll be fine. He's a nice guy! I've gotten to know him a little, seeing how he's such good friends with Jazz and all. He's not stuck up or anything; it's like he even doesn't know how good-looking he is." I raised an eyebrow skeptically, and she laughed. "Okay, okay, he knows he's a hottie, but he's not an ass about it, like you think he would be. He's…interesting. Hell, I'd be all over that quiet, sensitive jock shit if it wasn't for Jasper."

"Alice -"

"What'd it feel like?" Angela's soft voice broke into our argument, and we both gaped at her. At some point during our conversation her look of open-mouthed shock had changed to a faraway, dreamy expression. She hugged the pillow I'd thrown across the room to her chest. "His leg, I mean. Edward Cullen's leg."

Alice and I looked at each other, wide-eyed, and then burst out in shocked laughter. "Angela!"

She grinned and gave an exaggerated shiver. "What? I've always, you know, kind of wondered. I mean, who hasn't? Edward Cullen – wow. I want to know what he felt like. So spill, Bella."

"Seriously?" I laughed again as both Angela and Alice nodded their heads enthusiastically. "Well, I guess, sometime during the period when my inner slut was beating the crap out of my outer moral character…Hard. He was hard. His leg!" I insisted as they fell together on the floor, rolling and making disgusting noises. "You pervs!"

"_We're_ pervs?" Alice chortled. "Neither of us grabbed Edward Cullen's goods in class – and liked it!" They went off again, laughing until tears were rolling down their cheeks. "Okay, okay," Alice gasped, wiping under her eyes and snorting with mirth. "I'm sorry. What else?"

"What else? What else do you want?"

"Come on, Bella," Angela added. "We won't laugh again." Her quivering mouth made me doubt that somehow, but I sighed and tipped my head in thought.

"Well, it was hard, seriously… His leg, his _leg_!" I added again as the tremors shaking them warned of another hysteria attack. "At first I thought it was the table or the post or something. We're talking some serious muscles. He's like concrete."

"Hockey," Alice said, nodding decisively, as if she knew anything about the sport or training for it.

"Yeah, well, um, he was warm, too. Really warm. Although I guess that could have been me," I grinned and fanned my face. "He has the greenest eyes. And he smelled fabulous. He was kind of funny. I think he has a pretty good sense of humor, which is a killer. He's nice, too, which I didn't expect. And tall. Very tall. Shoulders." I raised my eyebrows and my grin widened despite myself. "And that jawline…mmm…"

They both sighed. When I didn't say anything else, Alice brightened. "Well, see, so you fondling him wasn't all that bad. At least you didn't tackle him and pin him to the floor, and start humping his leg or something." I covered my guilty cringe. Thank God none of them knew how close I had come to doing exactly that. It was the first time I'd ever been that close to him for any length of time, and it was pretty much all I could think about. Not the humping his leg part – exactly – but tackling him and pinning him to the floor…? Yeah. It was going to be a really long, excruciating semester. Maybe I could get my class switched.

"He has no idea you've got the serious hots for him," she continued. I scowled at her, but she just shrugged casually. "No big deal."

I snorted. "Great, he'll think I'm a spastic freak instead of a horny idiot. That's terrific. And 'no big deal.'"

"If he says anything," Alice went on with a pointed stare, and I threw myself back down on the bed at this thought, "you can just pass it off like an accident, or it was so insignificant you don't remember doing it, or whatever."

I considered this. "I'll blush and give it away. You know I'm a terrible liar."

"You always blush. No biggie." This was true. Alice stood up and walked over to pull me back to a sitting position on the bed. "Just act like nothing happened."

"Yeah," Angela grinned. "And never wash your hand again. Bella Swan, you're my hero."

Only the thought of Charlie forcing me to school at gunpoint, in his cruiser, made me drag my sorry ass to class the next day. Alice met me in the parking lot, dashing over before I could even slam my truck door closed. "Okay, I talked to Jazz about Edward -"

"You did _what_?" I screeched. Heads turned, and she grabbed my arm, dragging me off to a bench alongside the quad sidewalk.

"Shh!" she said irritably, sitting down and forcing me with her. Sure, _her _high school life wasn't over because she made an idiot of herself in front of the most beautiful and popular boy in the school. "Give me more credit than that. Jeez, Bella!"

I took a deep breath. It didn't really help, my stomach was rolling. I was sorry I ate that stupid Pop-Tart for breakfast. What had I been thinking? "Okay, let me have it."

She grinned. "Well, I was very subtle -"

I couldn't control my snort. "Yeah, you're the queen of subtle."

It was her turn to interrupt me. "Are you going to listen? Huh? Good, just shut it for a second. I saw Jazz last night and made a little comment, like wasn't it cool his best friend and my best friend were lab partners. Kind of, wouldn't it be awesome if you two hit it off? Did Edward say anything to him about you, stuff like that."

I considered. That wasn't too horrible. "Okay, I'm sorry, good job. So, what did he say?"

Alice's face fell, and I started hyperventilating. "Well, he didn't say anything to Jasper about you copping a feel yesterday."

I waited. Good so far.

"But," she said slowly, "he did say that Edward was kind of off girls right now."

We both sat there, contemplating this. "Huh. What the hell does that mean?" I asked. She shrugged.

"I have no idea. Is he, or was he, dating anyone? Maybe a bad break-up or something? He likes girls, right?" She looked suddenly horrified at the idea that he might not.

"Yeah," I answered absently, trying to remember the gossip at the end of last year, or over the summer. "I remember seeing him hanging out a lot with that pom-pom girl, the red-head, what's her name – Tanya – the end of last year." I shook my head, getting back to reality. "Anyway, it's not like he's interested in dating me or anything. I just hope he didn't say anything about my…uh, hand yesterday."

Alice was looking at me speculatively.

"What?" I asked. "There's not anything you're not telling me, is there?"

"No," she said thoughtfully. "Not about Edward. I just find it interesting you said he wasn't interested in you. I would have thought you'd say you weren't interested in him. Unless…you are."

I rolled my eyes and stood. "What are you, a psych major or something? Come on, we can't be late the second day of school."

She gathered her books and we walked into the main building. "I don't know, Bella, I just have a feeling about the two of you. And I'm almost always right."

I gave her a gentle smack on the back of the head as I walked through the heavy glass door, holding it open for her. "Shut up, you little freak. There's no way Edward Cullen would be interested in-"

"Interested in what?" came a smooth, deep voice over my left shoulder. I screeched for the second time that morning, dropping my bag and scattering books, pens, and papers everywhere. I stood clutching my heart as Edward Cullen knelt down and began collecting my loose belongings. "Sorry, sorry, I guess should have said good morning first."

He stood, smiling in a way that crinkled the corners of his beautiful green eyes, picking up my bag and putting my stuff back into it. He held it out to me, and Alice gave me a sharp shove between the shoulder blades. I stumbled forward into him, tripping over my feet as he caught me in his arms.

"Whoa there!" he laughed. "Still asleep?"

"Urk," I think I said. God, he smelled so good. Leather from his jacket, sweet and fresh from the outdoors, and that same tangy scent I recognized from yesterday. I could have stood there all day, sniffing him and feeling his arms around me, all safe and warm and quiet and fragrant…

"Bella?" he asked softly. I lifted my face to his with an unconscious smile. He returned it, that slow, half-crooked smirk curving his mouth. I stared dreamily at him for a second and then started at a loud cough from behind me. Of course, I immediately flushed a deep red, jerking myself from his loose hold and stumbling backward. He quickly stepped forward and caught my arm, steadying me, and I thought that all the Circles of Hell would be less torturous than this humiliation.

I glanced at Alice, and saw that Jasper must have arrived with Edward because he was standing with her. They were both wearing the same expressions of amused astonishment. My face may never return to its natural color. "Okay, okay," I muttered. "Quit staring at the human ping-pong ball, all of you."

Edward's hand trailed down my arm, probably making sure I wasn't going to do a face plant while standing perfectly still in the middle of the hall. It left really weird tingles in its wake – and to further my humiliation, my nipples hardened. _Great._ I hunched my shoulders and twisted them slightly away from Edward, pulling my jacket closed around me.

"Thank you," I said, taking a quick peek up at him. "For my bag and for saving me from another trip to the emergency room. I'm well acquainted with your dad."

He looked startled at that, but then shrugged. "It's okay. Sorry I scared you." He frowned a little, tipping his head. "But what wouldn't I be interested in?"

"Huh?"

"Well, just before you tossed your book bag you said 'there's no way Edward Cullen would be interested in…' I was wondering, what wouldn't I be interested in?"

I exchanged a quick, horrified glance with Alice. We both remembered all too well what we had been talking about just before he interrupted us. Yeah, I could hear it now – _I was wondering if you'd be interested in going off into the woods behind the school with me and having a wild lick-fest, you beautiful, godlike creature, you…_ My breathing increased. If I kept this up I'd be panting like a dog, and it really wasn't helping with the nipple situation.

"Uh, um, we were just talking about…uh…Biology!"

"Biology? Oh." He frowned, falling in beside me as I started shuffling slowly down the hall. No point in doing anything crazy like actually lifting my feet in case I did decide to go sprawling. "I don't understand?"

"Well," I clutched my bag to my traitorous nipples and risked a glance at him. He had a slight crease on his forehead, and his eyes were serious. He slowed his pace to match mine. "I was just talking with Alice about classes, how I was sure you were good in Biology, and wouldn't be interested in my opinions…" I was babbling. Where was I getting this from? I sucked at lying.

"Why would you think that?" he asked, turning in front of me and stopping us.

He put his hands on my shoulders, and I shivered. He unconsciously rubbed the top of my arms, assuming I was cold, I guess, and it felt so _good_, even through my jacket. What would it feel like if I didn't have a jacket on? What if I didn't have anything on – stop! I'm so screwed.

I had an urge to shrug, but stopped myself just in time. I didn't want to do anything that would make him move his hands anytime soon. I was dimly aware we were getting curious looks, standing still in the middle of the hall together, his hands on me and standing close.

"We were just joking around, Edward," I finally said. My heart gave a little stutter as I used his name for the first time to his face. I hoped he didn't notice, but that small smile curved one side of his mouth.

His hands slowly slipped down my arms, and I quickly brought my book bag back up in front of my chest, just in case. He took an unhurried step back and smiled at me. Just like that, my world rocked.

_Oh, no_._ You idiot! Not Edward freaking Cullen!_

We stood there staring at each other for a few seconds, and he finally looked away, over my shoulder. He frowned briefly at something and then looked back at me.

"Well, I bet you need to get to your locker." One graceful, long-fingered hand gestured at my jacket.

"Yeah, and then off to Trig."

I just stood there, strangely reluctant to leave him. I enjoyed talking to him in a kind of weird and thrilling sort of way, when I wasn't literally throwing myself at his feet. Plus, he hadn't mentioned anything about my grope yesterday, or seemed overly uncomfortable around me…Well, maybe a little, but he seemed to be acting like I was – a little reluctant to leave, too? Or was that just my wishful thinking on crack?

"Okay, Bella. I'll see you at lunch?" Was he planning on sitting with us? My heart went all pitter-pattery. He ruined it by smirking at me over his shoulder as he turned to make his way down the crowded hall. "Be safe. If you fall, I won't be around to catch you until then."

I watched him walk away in all his tall, beautiful, athletic grace, my eyes lingering on that spectacular ass covered in well-worn and frayed denim. Shit. Too late, I was already falling hard.

* * *

**Next time, Bella wonders:**

**How could a girl protect herself from Edward Cullen when he wouldn't cooperate by being an asshole?**


	4. Chapter 4: Checking

**Twilight is all SMeyer. She's kind enough to let us indulge our fantasies with her characters.**

**silentnc and Sarahsumbrella beta this and catch my mistakes. Love them for it.**

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**CHAPTER 4: Checking**

I was completely distracted, of course, all through Trig. I always wondered what sadistic moron would make Trig the first hour class for anyone, anyway. It was bad enough later in the day when I was fully awake, but first thing in the morning was hopeless. Second hour was English, with Alice. She cornered me the second she saw me in the hall.

"What happened?" She pulled on my arm as we sat at our desks, sliding hers closer to mine.

"What do you mean?" I hedged.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't play stupid with me, Ms. Swan. You. Edward Cullen. Walking together. Jazz and I left you guys alone, just in case."

"In case of what?" I wondered.

She wanted to smack me silly, I could tell, but Mr. Berty walked into the classroom. Alice moved her desk back into its usual place, sending me the hairy eyeball.

"Don't think you're getting off the hook," she warned in a low whisper. "I want to know everything he said to you."

I sighed, and enjoyed the fifty minute reprieve while Mr. Berty lectured on the glory that was waiting for us in the form of Shakespeare. As soon as the bell rang, Alice was on me like a bad date. She followed me out to the hall and pulled me into a quiet doorway.

"Okay, Isabella. Start talking."

"He didn't say much. Honestly!" I added defensively when she raised a perfectly sculpted brow. "I told him you and I were talking about classes this morning before I exploded my stuff all over him, and he said he might see me at lunch. That's it."

Alice tapped her foot and put a finger to her cheek in thought. "Hm. Well, hopefully he'll be with Jazz today at lunch and sit with us. Wouldn't that be cool?" Her eyes gleamed.

"Cool," I mumbled, and she frowned. "Alice, please don't play little miss matchmaker. I'm nervous enough around him already, and he's so far out of my league it isn't even funny. There is no way someone like Edward Cullen would be interested, even remotely, in someone like me."

"What do you mean, 'someone like you'?" Alice demanded.

I glared at her. "Give me a break, Alice. Look at him. And look at me!"

"There's nothing wrong with you! You're funny and smart and pretty and -"

"Please, Alice." I rolled my eyes.

She looked at me, really looked at me, and I shifted uncomfortably. Finally she said, "You sell yourself short, Isabella Marie Swan. You're exactly the kind of girl Edward Cullen should be interested in."

"Should be, maybe," I returned. "But isn't. This is the real world, Alice, not some Disney fairytale. There's no glass slipper and helpful, talking mice in this show."

She just shook her head. "We'll see," she said cryptically, and left me standing there feeling very uneasy. I thought I heard her singing _we can do it, we can do it, we can help our Cinderelly_… under her breath, and I groaned. I was so fucked – and unfortunately, not literally.

Third hour was Social Studies. I sat at my desk glumly contemplating the sadness that was my life before the bell until Jessica Stanley came and stood next to me. I looked up at her curiously. We got along okay, but I couldn't say we were good friends or anything.

"Hi Bella!" she said enthusiastically, which only raised my suspicions.

"Um, hi, Jessica."

"So." She fidgeted nervously, and then pinned a bright smile on her face. "I was wondering how you know Edward Cullen?"

I was dumbfounded for a moment. How could she know Edward had been consuming my thoughts all morning? He wasn't even here and he was in my face. Jessica took a quick peek behind her, and I saw Lauren Mallory watching us intently. Suddenly it made sense. I could guess who had put her up to this and who had him in their sights this year.

"Edward? Well, you know he's my Biology lab partner this term," I pointed out. After all, she was in our Biology class, too.

"Oh. Yeah." She looked slightly disappointed in this. "It's just that I saw you with him this morning."

I raised my eyebrow, staring her down. _And?_

"I was just wondering…" her voice trailed off, but I offered nothing. It wasn't any of her – or Lauren's – business. Besides, if Lauren wanted to know so badly, let her ask me herself, the skank.

At my continued silence she finally humpfed and went flouncing back to sit next to Lauren. They put their heads together and tossed a couple of nasty glances my way. Oh boy, that hurt. Not.

Ben Cheney came in and sat next to me. Ben was Angela's boyfriend; they'd been seeing each other for over a year now, and I adored Ben. He was so sweet to Angela, and in my opinion no one deserved it more.

"Hey, Bella."

"Hey, Ben, how was the vacation?" He'd missed the first day of school yesterday, having gone somewhere down south with his family.

"Good. I missed Angie, though. Wish she could have come with us." His eyes drifted to where Jessica and Lauren were still shooting daggers at me. "What's up with those two?"

"Wish I knew." We looked at each other and laughed. "Okay, maybe not."

Ben followed me to Spanish after our Social Studies class, not because he had it that hour but because Angela did. We met her outside the classroom and Ben threw his arm around her shoulders, pulling her down to kiss her ear. He was a little shorter than she was, but neither seemed to care one bit.

She grinned and then pushed him playfully away. "Go on, you'll be late for class."

"Okay, but I'll see you later, Ang. You too, Bella."

We waved him off and went in to tackle Spanish. Mrs. Goff went around the class having each of us tell her what we had for breakfast in Spanish. It should have been a simple exercise, but my mind just couldn't convert "pop tarts" into the language. Angela must have had the same problem, because she finally burst out "el Capitaine Cruncha," which did not help me concentrate on my translation at all. We were having so much fun trying to translate "They're Grrreat!" and "They're magically delicious!" into Spanish that I forgot all about lunch and the possibility of Edward Cullen sitting with us. We giggled together on our way to the cafeteria, meeting Alice along the way, and tossed our bags on our usual table. Alice wanted to know what we were laughing about.

"How do you say 'silly rabbit, Trix are for kids' in Spanish?" I asked.

"_El conjeo tonto, Trix son para los ninos_." The voice came from behind me, and I spun around, tripping over my chair and sending it flying – right into Edward Cullen.

"Ow!" he bent down and rubbed his shin where the metal and hard plastic was going to leave a bruise.

"Oh my God!" I ran over to him, dropping to my knees and rubbing his leg. "I'm so sorry! I should come with a warning label, I swear. Are you okay? Crap, how come I keep doing stupid shit around you?"

His long-fingered hand grabbed my wrist and pulled with gentle pressure. "I'm not sure how I got so lucky. Um, could you stand up, please?"

I looked up at him – up, up, and way up. I suddenly realized my position on my knees at his feet. Crap, I was rubbing his leg again. I guess I have a thing for his lower limbs. Huh. He tugged on my hand again, and I went bright, fiery red as I stood, refusing to meet his gaze. He pushed the damned chair back to the table and gestured gallantly for me to sit. I did, although I wanted nothing more than to crawl under the table and hide until he graduated. Of course, that would once again put me in a very interesting position in relation to his anatomy…ugh, stop it! What was it with him and my x-rated mental digressions?

"Is that really how you say it?" Alice came to the rescue, trying to save a pretty much unsalvageable situation.

"I'm sure it is," Jasper joined in, earning my undying gratitude. "Edward's a fucking genius with languages. Got a pass on taking classes, he's so good."

"Really?" Alice asked in genuine interest. "Say it in French."

"_Le lapin idiot, Trix sont pour les enfants_," he replied with no hesitation, pulling the chair out next to me and sitting.

Alice and Angela clapped, laughing, as Ben joined us. "What's so funny?"

"Ben, this is Jasper Whitlock and Edward Cullen," Angela introduced them shyly, taking his hand and pulling him to a seat next to her. "Edward was just translating."

Jasper leaned forward and shook Ben's hand. Edward nodded and said, "Hi, Ben, good to see you."

Angela and I exchanged a glace. How did Edward Cullen know Ben and how come she didn't know about it?

"Translating what?" Ben wanted to know.

"Our Spanish lesson," Angela told him. "Mrs. Goff asked us what we had for breakfast and we had to tell her in Spanish, so Bella and I got started on cereal tag lines. We couldn't figure out how to say 'silly rabbit, Trix are for kids', but Edward did."

"And in French," Alice added, and Edward shrugged. "Can you say it in German?"

"_Dummes Kaninchen, Trix sind für Kinder_."

I stared at him in awe, and he shrugged again, looking slightly embarrassed. "How do you do that?" I asked.

"I'm not really sure. It's always come kind of easy for me. Mom and Dad like to travel; it's just something I picked up." He was playing with the food on his tray, obviously uncomfortable. I'm sure it was much more involved than that, but he wanted to brush it off for some reason.

"What else?" Alice asked eagerly. "Italian?"

"Um…" This time he had to think for a second, "_C__oniglio sciocco, Trix sono per i bambini,_ I'm pretty sure."

The language rolling off his tongue sounded like pure sex. I shivered, and he glanced at me.

"What?"

"I liked that one," I admitted softly. "What was that, Italian, right?"

"_Sì,_" he answered, just as softly, his eyes holding mine intently. "_È, la mia Bella_."

"Wow." I blinked, not knowing what else to say.

We just stared at each other. I held my breath as his face somehow seemed to be getting closer to mine. He jerked back suddenly with a hiss, and I looked across the table in surprise. Alice was gaping, and Jasper was scowling at Edward.

"Christ, Jasper, that's the leg that just got tagged with the chair," Edward said, reaching down to rub his shin.

Jasper raised a brow with a pointed look, and my cheeks got red once again. At this rate, I might as well stay this color permanently; it would give my involuntary response system a break.

"Oh, God, Edward, I'm so sorry about your leg -"

"Quit saying that." Edward turned his own scowl on me, and my mouth snapped shut mid-sentence.

"Quit sneaking up on me," I returned sharply and was surprised at the tone that automatically came out of my mouth.

"I'm so sorry," he drawled, mocking me.

"Don't be an ass," I snapped, returning his scowl with one of my own. I have to say his was much more impressive.

"Don't be an idiot."

Idiot? Did he really just call me an idiot? My eyes narrowed and I opened my mouth to let him have it. "Don't be -"

"Children!" Alice scolded. I suddenly realized we were leaning towards each other, our faces only inches apart.

I wanted to fist my hands in that wild rust hair and drag his mouth to mine. I wanted to bite his chin and lick my tongue along the line of his jaw that stretched for miles. I wanted to suck the hollow at the base of his throat. I wanted to latch on to his Adam's apple and scrape it with my teeth. I wanted to… Holy hell. I had to clench my hands under the table to still the urge. Inner Slut Girl had suddenly made herself known with a vengeance.

I'd never had thoughts like this about anyone, ever. I was amazed and astounded (and if I was being really honest, kind of proud) at the images and impulses that had been in my brain ever since Edward Cullen had started talking to me. If this kept up, I was going to have to give Inner Slut Girl a name. Wait…would that be scary multiple personality weird? Oh, hell, who cared as long as I got the chance to run my mouth all over the defined, gorgeous planes of his face…and neck…and collarbone…and – double holy hell. Go Inner Slut Girl! That bitch was crazy. I could grow very fond of her.

He sat back slowly, running his hand through the hair at his forehead as if he knew what I was thinking. I busied myself by grabbing my book bag, unzipping it, and reaching into it for my PB & J sandwich. I glanced at the others at the table to see if they were paying any attention to us, and saw that Angela and Ben had their heads together, talking quietly to each other. Alice and Jasper were doing much the same, although I could see Alice sneaking quick glances at me from the corner of her eye. I found the baggie holding my sandwich and sighed. With all the abuse my book bag had been through this morning, the sandwich was a goner. It was a disgusting blob of smashed jelly, peanut butter, and bread. Totally unsalvageable.

Edward pushed his lunch tray toward me. "Here, help yourself. I always get more than I can eat, anyway."

"Oh, thanks, but -"

"Bella," he broke in with a sigh. "Are you really going to try to eat that?" he nodded toward the gooey mess inside the sandwich bag. "Seriously. Dig in, it's fine."

"Thanks." I smiled at him, and was rewarded with my favorite crooked, crinkly-eyed grin.

I reached hesitantly towards an apple, taking it in my hand and bringing it to my mouth. He sighed again and pushed a small plastic plate with a slice of pizza on it towards me as well. I had to admit, with the pile of food he had on the tray, he wouldn't miss it.

"So, Ben," Edward said, "are you going to be playing with the travel band this year?"

Ben nodded. "Yeah, we'll be at your games again this season."

Suddenly it made sense. Ben played trumpet in the marching band, and I knew from his conversations they sent a few members to the hockey and basketball games as well as performing at all the football games. That must be how Edward knew Ben. I have to admit I was surprised—it just didn't seem likely that a hot shot athlete super star would interact with the band members. Guilt quickly followed the thought, for as little as I actually did know about Edward, he had never given any indication he was a stuck-up jock. As I reflected on this, I felt even worse. I was at fault for stereotyping, because that's exactly how I had been subconsciously thinking of him before I had a chance to get to know him, even this little bit.

I realized that I had been using it as kind of a defense mechanism. I had been admiring and lusting for him in that distant, he's-so-far-out-of-my-reach kind of way. Thinking he was a shallow, arrogant jock was a way to console myself because I knew he'd never be interested in me. That was all blown completely out of the water now. I was starting to get to know him, and what I knew so far I liked. He was interesting and smart, funny and considerate. And panty-wetting gorgeous. Crap. It was so unfair. How could a girl protect herself from Edward Cullen when he wouldn't cooperate by being an asshole?

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Edward tossed the garbage away, and I noticed that despite his earlier claim that he had gotten too much food, there wasn't much of anything edible left on the tray.

"See you guys later," Angela called, and she and Ben and Alice and Jasper left for the other side of the cafeteria to head toward their next classes.

Edward opened the glass door for me and held it politely. "We're off to Biology, partner."

The next day, Friday, went much the same, although I didn't see Edward until lunch. He sat with us for a while in the chair next to me, making idle conversation. Toward the end of the period he excused himself and went to go talk with a couple of guys on his hockey team. I recognized them vaguely, and only because of their team jackets. He was back just before the bell rang to walk me to Biology. It had only been three days, but I was hopeful it was a routine we'd be able to continue.

It was lecture day for Mr. Banner, which was good. I could let my mind wander a bit. It was kind of pathetic, but I was glad to at least have this small part of Edward Cullen's world. He absolutely fascinated me, even when Inner Slut Girl wasn't making a running commentary. I wondered what he was doing this weekend, suddenly worried that he might be seeing somebody and have a date. I didn't want this idea to hurt as badly as it did – after all, I had absolutely no claim on him other than an hour of his time in class every day. I hadn't seen him hanging out with any one girl in particular when he wasn't with our little group, but that didn't mean he couldn't be dating someone who wasn't from around here. Alice had said that Jasper mentioned he was "off girls right now." How could I find out, purely out of curiosity, of course – without being idiotically obvious?

The bell rang, signaling the end of class and my time with him until Monday. I dug deep for courage and asked, "So, any big plans for the weekend?" It wasn't very original, but it sounded nice and casual, at least.

He tipped his head as we walked out of the room. "No, not really. Practice. That's pretty much my life for the next few months until hockey season is over. Then I start league play. More practice. You?"

Good. That sounded like a nice, boring weekend. "No, I don't play," I teased. "Or practice."

"Ha." He grinned. "You on skates. Pretty…scary." I had to agree with him. "No, I meant, are you doing anything fun this weekend?"

"Nah. No big plans." I paused. Our next classes were in different directions. "Well, have fun at practice. Guess I'll see you Monday.

"See you Monday, Bella. If you need help with your Biology homework, give me a call." He smiled that cocky, heartbreaking smile, and I watched him walk away.

I hung out at Alice's Friday night with her, Jasper, and Angela. Ben was playing in the band at the home football game, but no one really was in the mood for more school spirit, not even Angela. Ben met us at Alice's after he was done, and we watched TV, played some video games, and generally relaxed and had a good time. I hardly even felt like a fifth wheel until they started planning their individual Saturday night dates.

"My cue to go, guys," I said, smiling and grabbing my jacket and keys. "I'll see y'all Monday."

"Do you want to come over tomorrow night? Jazz and I were just going to hang out here again after we go to dinner," Alice said.

"Thanks, sweetie, but no." I gave her a smacking kiss on top of her head as I passed her and Jasper where they sat on the sofa on my way to the door. I appreciated the gesture, but didn't think I could deal with a pity invite on their date night.

Saturday I spent cleaning and catching up on laundry, not having much homework this early into the school year. Charlie was working overnights this weekend and left just before dinner. I had an evening to fill; it looked like another movie night. I could watch my guilty pleasures, the movies no one else liked to watch with me. Or I could, maybe, watch something educational. Like a hockey movie. You know, learn something about the game. I hated to think my knowledge might be lacking on any subject. I wanted to be a well-rounded individual, right?

I grabbed my laptop and looked up what hockey movies I could download and watch tonight. Hmm, not too many, but what was available was interesting. The movie _Slap Shot_ came up numerous times as a classic, and who could go wrong with Paul Newman? And…_Youngblood_? Wait – Rob Lowe, Patrick Swayze, and Keanu Reeves…hmm…I loved 80's movies and all those pretty, pretty boys. There was also _Miracle_, about the 1980 US Olympic hockey team. Even I'd heard the line "Do you believe in miracles?" – I just never really realized it was from a famous hockey game. It would appear I had plenty of material to fill the evening. I also looked up books, making note of some on-line articles and finding a lot of information, but most of it was dry and confusing. I perked up seeing a couple of contemporary romance novels that looked interesting; they combined hockey and sex, two of my current main interests right now. I figured it would be a good idea to read them, purely for research, of course.

I wasn't in the mood to cook for once, so I decided to order some take-out food and treat myself to a milkshake from the local diner. I'd bring it back here and stay up late watching "educational" movies. I could spend the evening with Edward, in some small way.

Yeah, I was pathetic.

I called my order into the diner and left a few minutes later to go get it. It was still fairly early for the dinner crowd, but on a Saturday night it was starting to get busy. I went in and waited patiently while they got my order together, vaguely recognizing the girl at the register as a senior from our school. She eyed me in a bored fashion, probably wondering why I was picking up dinner for one on a Saturday night. At least she had an excuse for not going out on a Saturday, she was working. I sighed. Suddenly her eyes took on an interested gleam and she straightened as a group of boys approached with their checks. I was purposely not paying much attention, just wanting to get my dinner and get back to the house.

"Hey there, guys," she said in a voice she certainly hadn't used with me. I glanced up and froze.

Edward Cullen's green eyes locked with mine from where he was standing at the back of the group of four. They all sported FHS hockey jackets and were obviously teammates. While the other guys flirted with the cashier and paid their bills, he walked over to me.

"Bella. Fancy meeting you here."

"Hi, Edward." My cheeks were red, and why the hell was I blushing just because he was talking to me? Oh yeah, right, it was because I was a loser getting food for one to take back to my house – alone – to watch movies that pertained to him – alone. I may as well paste a big, red "L" on my forehead. I was such a pitiful loser. And he was splendid.

"What are you up to?" he asked.

"Oh, um, movie night tonight." I sucked at lying, and it was all that I could come up with. When in doubt, stick as close to the truth as possible. I didn't want him to know I was such a sad case that I was watching movies by myself on a Saturday night and thinking of him.

His brows came together briefly, and he looked like he wanted to say something. Finally, he said, "Yeah, us, too. We're heading to Port Angeles to catch _The Heist_." He named the latest action/adventure movie that was in the theaters. "Hey, do you, um, want to come?"

It hung there, in the space between us. My face must have reflected the surprise that showed on his. It was definitely on the face of his friend who had come up behind him.

"Cullen!" the guy exclaimed, and Edward turned to him with a scowl. "The hell? You gonna pay, or what?" His eyes cut to me briefly, giving me a quick once over, and then going back to Edward. "We're gonna miss the start of the movie."

"Shut up, Yorkie, I'll be there in a second."

"Hey, I'm just sayin' -"

Edward glared at him, and he put his hands up, turning around and walking to the other two boys. They stood there, heads together and murmuring, casting appraising glances my way.

I couldn't meet his eyes. I could tell by the strange expressions on the other boy's faces they were assessing me and I was coming up lacking.

"Um, thanks, but no. Don't want to ruin boys' night out, right?." I tried to smile. "Besides," I gestured at the take-out bag the cashier had set on the counter. "I've already got…"

"Plans," he finished for me. I couldn't say it myself; for some reason I just couldn't lie right to his face. "Hey, sorry about the guys, they're just…" He shrugged one broad shoulder with a wry twist to his mouth.

I shook my head at him with what I hoped was a confident, reassuring smile. I stepped past him and held out a twenty to the cashier, who was trying to eavesdrop unashamedly.

"No problem, Edward. Have fun at the movie." I picked up the milkshake and turned back to him, taking a hard suck on the straw. I loved their milkshakes; they were so thick and rich. I thought I was doing okay with the casual attitude until I looked back up at him.

He had a strangely intense look on his face as he stepped in close to me. The straw fell off my lip as his arm came up around me and butterflies erupted in my stomach. I sagged in relief and annoyance as he handed the cashier behind me his bill and some cash. The little shit. He did that on purpose.

"Here you go, Edward." The cashier said pointedly, handing him his change. He hadn't moved an inch out of my personal space. "Have a good night."

His eyes didn't leave mine as he murmured, "yeah, I will." He flashed that crooked smile, touched my chin, and walked out the door.

I let out a huge breath, sagging against the counter. I looked up and saw the cashier glaring at me. I grabbed my bag and left.

I saw the four of them standing by Edward's Volvo as I walked to my truck. I caught their conversation mid-sentence, and it made my cheeks flush hot.

"…bros not 'hos tonight, man, remember?" one was saying to Edward. His eyes met mine briefly as I hurried past, and he turned to scowl at the dark haired boy.

"I said drop it." His quiet, firm voice carried to me as I reached my truck. "Now."

I waited for them pull out before I started my truck and the short drive home. Well, I reflected, the good news was he was out with his friends and not some girl. My cheeks flamed and my stomach dropped as I imagined running into him at the diner with a date instead of his teammates. It shouldn't bother me so much, but it did. I glumly considered how utterly hopeless I was. It shouldn't make any difference who he was with, because it certainly wouldn't be me.

I needed to get my shit straight and lock Inner Slut Girl into a deep, dark place where she wouldn't be heard from again. Strangely enough, that made me almost as sad as locking away my dream of Edward being interested me, and not just as lab partners. Inner Slut Girl was pretty amusing and a hell of a lot of fun. Inner Slut Girl was someone Edward might actually be interested in dating. Maybe I should introduce them…wait, I was supposed to be putting those thoughts away. After careful consideration, I decided I would give Inner Slut Girl and those wicked, wonderful fantasies free reign until Monday morning – one last fling before going back to plain, boring, uninteresting Bella Swan. The real me.

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**Later this week, Bella thinks:**

**I'd give him Edward nap-time, all right. Anytime, anywhere. Preferably all warm and cuddly and naked.**


	5. Chapter 5: Scramble

**Stephenie Meyer ownsies - me no-sies**

**Sarahsumbrella and silentnc are super betas - hugs and kisses all around!**

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**CHAPTER 5: Scramble **

Seeing Edward in the parking lot first thing Monday morning did nothing to help my resolve to stifle my fantasies about him. It was raining, and he was wet. Which made me wet, for the first time in my life, in response to a man. He was laughing with Jasper, his head thrown back and raindrops sparkling in his dark bronze hair. The two of them jogged ahead of Alice and me into the building, and we took a long moment to admire the display. To hell with stifling my fantasies, it hadn't even been a half-hour into my resolution and my determination was shot. Self-discipline was way overrated, especially when Edward Cullen served as temptation.

"Nice manners!" Alice called to them as we darted our way out of the downpour. "Way to leave the women out in the rain."

They turned to us, still grinning. Those bright, wet, beautiful faces together in tandem were enough to make us catch our breath. Damn.

"I didn't see you!" Jasper exclaimed, coming over and giving Alice a wet, squelching hug that made her squeal and shove at him.

"Obviously," she huffed. "Don't even think about it!" she warned as he swooped in, pretending to shake his wet hair on her.

"You're so sweet, it just might make you melt," he grinned, exaggerating his southern accent. She patted his cheek.

Edward made a gagging sound, and I met his crinkled eyes. Big mistake. His hair was still sparkling in wet spikes, dripping down his forehead, face, and neck. I wanted to whip my hoodie off right there in the hallway and rub him dry. And then shove it between my legs and carry it there with me all day. God, that was so sick. I loved it. Sick!

We ignored Alice and Jasper's lovey-dovey routine, which was fair because they were in their own little world. He fell into step with me. "So, was the movie any good?"

I hid a smile. My "research" had been pretty informative. While I was a bit shocked at the violence and, well, _passion_ of the game, I had begun to appreciate the sheer physical effort, training, and skill it took to play hockey. Not to mention the athleticism, grace, and concentration involved. All of that was so foreign to my graceless nature, I had become absolutely fascinated. There were so many things I wanted to ask him, but I was way too embarrassed to admit my sudden interest in the game, all because of him.

I realized he was waiting for an answer. "Oh! Yeah, pretty good."

"What'd you guys watch?"

He didn't know I'd been alone Saturday night, feeding my Edward Obsession in private. There was nothing on this earth that would get me to admit it to him, of all people.

"Oh, a couple of different things. How was your movie?" I asked quickly, to distract him.

"Okay. Typical."

We walked in comfortable silence toward my locker. I realized his was probably on the other side of the school, lockers being assigned alphabetically. I wasn't going to mention it, though, I was too happy to have him with me even for a few minutes in the morning.

Someone walked by, punching him lightly in the shoulder and shouting "Hey, Cullen!" I recognized him as one of the boys Edward had been with Saturday night, the one Edward had called Yorkie. I think his first name was Eric. His eyes fell on me and I saw the recognition and curiosity in them before he looked at Edward. "What are you doing at this end of the institution this morning?" His eyes flickered to me again.

"Starting my day off right," Edward told him with a small smile, also looking down at me. My heart sped up and I couldn't look away from those green, green eyes. "Bella, do you know Eric?"

I shook my head, knowing my cheeks were doing their thing as Eric now stared at me unabashedly. Edward poked him with his elbow and a faint scowl.

"Bella Swan, this is Eric Yorkie, friend and teammate."

"Hi, Eric Yorkie, friend and teammate." I clutched the strap of my book bag, not sure if it would be stupid to shake his hand or not.

He grinned at me. "Hi, Bella Swan. Are you a friend? Or a...teammate?" He raised his brows and I turned all kinds of red.

"She doesn't need to put up with your shit first thing in the morning," Edward mock growled, grabbing his arms, spinning him around, and shoving him on his way. Eric looked back over his shoulder, brows still raised to his hairline, and I couldn't help but laugh at the mischievous look on his face.

"Sorry about that," Edward apologized. "Sometimes they can be assholes."

"He was kind of funny. He seemed surprised to see you here, with me." I put it out there tentatively to see what he would say.

"Yeah," he snorted. "I'll have to tell him to mind his own business."

That wasn't exactly the response I had hoped for. What the hell did that mean?

"Well, I'd better get over to 'the other side of the institution,'" he said, giving me that one-sided smile and a wave. "See you later, Bella."

"Yeah, see you," I returned, still having no clue as to what was going on between us, if anything.

The next few weeks passed in a very similar fashion. Sometimes Edward was with Jasper in the mornings when Alice and I met up with them, and he would walk with me to my locker before making his way back to his and starting the school day. He sat at lunch with us most days, and when he didn't? Crap – I missed him. There would be a few days that I wouldn't see him at all until he met me in the cafeteria to walk with me to our Biology class. Weekends were the strangest; there were times when he would hang out with me, Alice, and Jasper, and Angela and Ben would join us occasionally. I found myself living for that group "date", since the two of us not having a significant other naturally threw us together. He was attentive and unfailingly polite, and really seemed to be enjoying himself when he was with me – I mean, with us. Sometimes I'd find him looking at me, and my heart would fly.

I couldn't quite contain my hope and anxiety as we moved further into the school year and he continued to hang out with me – I mean, with us – without a girlfriend or any hint he wanted to be somewhere else. I even let myself be talked into going to a couple of football games, just because I knew he would be there, too. Even in front of all of our peers he always sat next to me, making sure I was entertained and was never by myself. It was so strange, but it gave me hope. I began to build up some courage to try and confront him about why he seemed so content to spend so much time with me. Was he just bored and I was a convenient diversion? If he was interested, why didn't he just say so, or ask me out? I couldn't imagine Edward Cullen being hesitant about asking a girl on a date, so did that mean he wasn't interested? I lost a lot of sleep tossing his behavior around in my head. I wanted to ask him outright, but I was terrified I would lose what little attention of his I did have and ruin the easygoing friendship we had established.

Homecoming was fast approaching, signaling the end of football season. From what Edward had mentioned, I knew his hockey season would be starting the week after that. He was absent more often than not at lunch lately, but today he was at our table with Jasper and Alice when I walked up with Angela and Ben.

"Hi," I said, tossing my bag on the table and looking at him closely. His dazzling green eyes were tired and droopy with dark shadows underneath them. "You look exhausted."

He smiled tiredly and leaned back in the chair. "Yeah, this week we have morning practices. I'm at the rink before four a.m."

I shuddered in horror – I was not a morning person. "That's mean and sadistic. It's got to be against some sort of law. Child labor law, maybe. I'll check with my dad."

He chuckled and pulled out the chair for me. I sat. "That's hockey. Only time we could get the arena this week." He yawned, covering his mouth. "Sorry. It just takes me a few days to get used to it. I'm not as bad as Bill, though. He's playing football, too, and has double practices."

"I don't think I'd ever get used to it. It's not right to be up that far ahead of the sun. It would definitely mean sneaking some sleep during the day."

He hummed, blinking slowly. "It's been Edward nap-time the past couple of days in the car during lunch."

I'd give him Edward nap-time, all right. Anytime, anywhere. Preferably all warm and cuddly and naked. I could almost feel my nose pressed into his bare chest, our legs tangled together, his arms tight around me. My skin broke out in goose bumps at that happy thought. At least that explained why he hadn't been at our table the past couple of days.

"Not as tired today?" I asked, pulling my lunch out of my bag.

He made that sexy humming noise again. "Well, yeah, but hungry beat tired. And I wanted to see... what I've missed the past couple of days." He looked at me.

"Same old, same old," Jasper commented, and I felt deflated

"How many hours do you have to practice a week?" I asked as he laid his head on the table. I was getting indignant on his behalf.

"A lot," he mumbled. "Once the adult leagues end in a week or two we can go back to our afternoon practices. I'm not usually this tired, but I haven't been sleeping well. Not going to bed early enough, I guess."

"Have you ever been to a hockey game?" Jasper asked Alice. To my surprise, she nodded her head. "What time is your first game, what, two Saturdays from now, Edward?"

"Six."

"Want to go?" Jasper cocked his head at Alice.

"Sure."

"We should all go together!" Angela said enthusiastically. "I like to go, but hate sitting by myself while Ben's in the band section."

"Perfect!" Alice said, eyes alight. When did she get so enthusiastic about sports? She turned to me. "You have to come, too, of course."

Sneaky girl. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Edward watching me. There was no way was I admitting I'd been researching the game. "Um, sure, I guess. I don't know much about hockey, though, just what little I've seen when Charlie has it on TV."

I saw Edward relax slightly when I said I'd go, then stiffen back up at the mention of Charlie. "Charlie?" he asked softly.

"Yeah, my dad. Charlie."

"Oh." He looked at me curiously.

"Yeah, um, I call him Charlie, out of habit. Not usually to his face, though. It's just that's how my mom referred to him, and I kind of picked it up."

"My brother Emmett does the same thing to my dad. Drives him crazy, but there's not much you can do about Emmett." He shook his head with an amused expression. "There'll be a party after the game, too, at Crowley's house. If you all want to go." But his eyes were on me.

"Excellent!" Alice beamed. "It'll be fun. Bella, Jazz and I can tell you all you need to know about the game."

The game of hockey, a la Alice. It should be interesting, at least.

They started talking about the Homecoming dance, and I saw Jasper roll his eyes when Alice couldn't see. She was making him go with her, and I could tell it was something he really would rather not do. It made Alice happy, though, so...Alice got pretty much whatever Alice wanted from Mr. Whitlock. I smiled and glanced over to see Edward watching me, his face still pressed to the table.

"What?" he asked.

I shrugged, leaning down to whisper, "I just can't believe Alice is making Jasper go to the dance. That would almost be worth seeing."

He stared at me thoughtfully for a few seconds, and then lifted his head with a deep breath. He leaned in toward me as well. "Are you going to the Homecoming dance, Bella?"

"No," I laughed sharply.

"Do you...want to go?" His green eyes studied mine.

"No," I laughed again, shaking my head. "Me. Dancing. Not such a good idea. I avoid stuff like that like the plague."

"Oh. Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at the table. I realized the other four had gone silent, and they were all staring at us. Well, three of them were staring; Alice was glaring at me like I'd worn white shoes before Memorial Day. What?

I looked back at Edward to see him staring down at his hands thoughtfully, a faint red tint to his cheeks. A horrible thought struck me. He didn't have a date, did he? He hadn't mentioned anything, nor had anyone else, but that didn't mean he hadn't asked somebody. How could he not have a date? How could I care so very much?

"Are you going?" I asked in a thin voice, now staring at my own hands.

"Well, I have to go to the game, all the captains and alternate captains of the teams ride together for the halftime parade. But it doesn't look like I'm going to the dance." His voice was wry.

"Oh," I said. I almost felt guilty for the flare of happiness at the fact he didn't have a date. Almost.

The bell rang, and Alice got up to march over to me. "Bella will meet you in Biology, Edward," she gritted out and yanked my arm.

"What?" I asked bewilderedly as she hauled me out into the hall. I glanced behind me to see Jasper talking with Edward as they followed much more slowly.

"Are you absolutely _out of your mind_?" Alice hissed, spinning me to face her once we were on the other side of the doors.

"What? Alice?" I stared at her; she was practically vibrating in frustration.

"He was asking you to the Homecoming dance, you moron!" she yelled. I cringed.

"What are you talking about?" I demanded. He hadn't asked me anything. Had he?

She glared at me. "He asked me if you were going to the dance a couple of days ago. He wanted to know if I thought you'd go with him. And you just _shot him down_!"

I stared at her in shock. "Have you been smoking crack?" I demanded.

She growled and grabbed my ear, yanking my face down to her level. "Ow, Alice!"

"You listen to me and you listen good, Isabella Swan. That boy is interested in you and you will not fuck this up! Do you understand me?" She gave my head a little shake, and I squeaked. "You like him and he likes you, and when that happens, one of you asks the other out and you date – and things progress from there. If he can pick his manhood out of the dirt you just kicked it in, and he asks you out again, you will not be oblivious, you will not be scared, you will not be disbelieving. You will be happy and you will say yes. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," I whispered, dazed.

"Good." She glanced over my shoulder. "Here he comes. Go ahead and get your damned blush over with before he gets here and act human, will you? We will not speak of this again."

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**Next chapter, Bella's having naughty thoughts again!**

**I stared at the fantastic, defined line of his jaw and just wanted to slurp him up with one big, wet lap of my tongue.**


	6. Chapter 6: Rebound

**Stephenie Meyer owns, blah blah, you all know this.**

**silentnc and Sarahsumbrella beta and work hard to make this better for all of us, and that's no blah blah - it's amazing. Thank you.**

**Thank you guys so much for the reviews and comments - I laughed my ass off last chapter! So many comments about what an idiot Bella was and how clueless she is, and you're totally right...so why so funny? Because that Homecoming scene actually happened to me. Yeah. It's funny **_**now**_**... :p**

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**CHAPTER 6: Rebound**

I pondered what Alice had said as Edward approached.

"Hi, Edward," she sang, dancing away, but not without one more meaningful glare at me from behind his back.

He fell into step beside me as we walked down the hall toward our Biology class.

"You don't have to walk with me, you know," I said, nervous now that we were alone again. Not that the presence of others ever saved me from being a complete klutz in front of him, but there was some sort of sick security in knowing the others were there. I was conflicted about wanting them around versus having him all to myself for any length of time, especially with all I had to think about after the lecture Alice just gave me. Could she be right? _How_ could she be right? "Not that I mind, but you may be putting your safety at risk."

He smirked at me. "I'll take my chances." I took a quick glance up at him. "What?" he asked.

I grimaced as we walked down the hall, considering my next words. "Can I be honest?"

"Sure." He frowned, puzzled.

"Well, I was just wondering...why are you being so nice to me?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" A defensive note had crept into his voice, and he slid his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

"I don't know...it's not that exactly..."

"So what is it? Exactly." He sounded a little ticked off for some reason.

I stopped in the middle of the hallway, and he paused with me. People parted and flowed around us. "I mean, we hardly know each other. You never bothered to talk to me before. I don't think you've ever even noticed me before."

I wasn't sure where the courage to confront him like this was coming from, I only knew I was confused and feeling insecure. I really did like him, not for his beauty or abilities or any of those superficial things. It was _him_. I was on a high when he was around and depressed when he wasn't. I didn't want this to continue if he was just messing with me for kicks, or just because we were both friends with Alice and Jasper. I knew I was setting myself up for a world of hurt, but I had to know if what Alice had said was true.

"What, so I'm some kind of conceited prick, is that right?"

I blinked, startled. "No," I replied slowly.

"Look, Bella." He paused, glancing around us. He reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling me to one side of the hall against the lockers, out of the flow of traffic. He leaned down so I could hear him as he continued speaking in a low tone. "I know what a lot people say about me, let alone what they think. But most people don't know the first thing about me, about who I am. I did notice you. I've known who you are for a long time, but I never had a chance to talk to you like I have the past couple of months. It used to be like anytime I got anywhere near you, you'd go completely out of your way to avoid me. So I figured you were just like the rest of them – you'd already made up your mind I was some stuck up pig, a dumb fucking jock that wasn't worth a second of your precious time. That you were like the rest of the God damn sheep, making up your mind without bothering to actually know me at all!"

Whoa. I stared at him in shock. I really hadn't been expecting that. It had obviously been bothering him as much as my conflicting feelings were bothering me, and I was stunned. He'd known who I was? How? Why?

His breathing had increased and a muscle along his amazing jaw was flexing. "Say something," he gritted from between his teeth.

I had an almost uncontrollable urge to lay my palm along his cheek. I felt way too self-conscious, though, we really didn't know each other well enough yet for such a seemingly intimate touch. His eyes were studying me intently.

"Well," I whispered. "It looks like we both made some very wrong assumptions about each other."

After a few intense seconds he smiled tightly and nodded. His hand came up, hesitant, and one long finger stroked my cheek. An electric shock went through me, and his finger twitched as if he felt it, too. I was thrilled that he had the same desire to touch me as I had for him, although he obviously either wasn't as shy as I was or had much weaker impulse control. Whichever it was, I was glad he had the guts to make the first move. I reached up and shyly covered his hand with mine for a brief second and then looked down in embarrassment.

"Let's not make that same mistake again," he said, and I looked back up at him curiously. "About assumptions. I like you Bella. You're...different."

I rolled my eyes, even as I thrilled to his words. _He likes me, he likes me, neener neener neener_. Alice fucking rocked. Was it too soon to tell him I was having wild fantasies of keeping him locked up in my bedroom wearing only a red Superman cape? Gah – it was way too early for _me_ to be considering it. That was going to have to wait until I was alone, so I could consider it in detail, much later...

"Yeah, I'm different all right," I snorted. "I'm so clumsy I need a safety zone painted around me. Hey, wait, am I good different or bad different?"

"Good different," he assured me. Our hands had fallen to my side, and he actually gave my fingers a quick squeeze. The bell rang, and we came out of our own little world in the school hallway. He turned, putting his hand on the small of my back to escort me to our Biology classroom, and I tingled again. "Besides, your clumsiness gives me an excuse to put my hands on you."

"Edward!" I exclaimed in shock. That was the last thing I expected him to say, and he knew it.

He grinned wickedly, and it turned my heart over in my chest. Just as we walked through the door he leaned down to whisper in my ear, "What? It's not like you need an excuse to put your hands on me." He looked pointedly at his thigh, and I gasped and spluttered. I had known there was no way he missed me fondling his leg that first day of class. He'd been lulling me into complacency, the little shit!

Of course, every person in the classroom stared at us as we walked in together and sat at our lab table. I was making noises like a strangled water buffalo, and he was laughing out loud. I tipped my head down and concentrated on getting my notebook and text book out of my bag. He nudged me, and I glared at him.

"It's okay," he assured me, still grinning from ear to ear. "Feel free, anytime." He patted his leg.

I hissed under my breath, and reached out surreptitiously to pinch him. It was like pinching the wall. There was no extra flesh to grab, and I had a mental flash of running my hands all over that long, hard, ripped body. Or running my mouth over that pale, smooth skin...sweat broke out across my upper lip. Oh boy, major hot flash.

It must have shown on my face – everything always did. His grin faded and his eyes took on a heated intensity, his face flushing slightly. He swung around to face forward in his seat, leaning over the desk on his elbows. I hid a small smile and hoped his problem was, well, _harder_ to hide than a moist upper lip. His tense pose, leaning away from me, seemed familiar…oh! It was the same thing he did the first day of class, when I had groped him...after I thought he was sniffing me...wait. Could he...did he...had he been affected the same way, even back then? Could he have had the same "hard" to hide problem? My stomach fluttered in delight that I might be able to affect him in the same way he affected me. Was it possible? Hm, from the expression on his face, it just might be. I stared at the fantastic, defined line of his jaw and just wanted to slurp him up with one big, wet lap of my tongue.

"Cut it out," he said through his teeth, not looking at me.

Mr. Banner droned on with his lecture. I ducked my head, curtaining my red face with my hair. I couldn't keep the delighted grin from curving across my mouth, though. It would appear we really did have some sort of crazy mutual attraction thing going on here. I couldn't be more thrilled, or confused. How could his amazing creature be attracted to me? We sat in silence through the rest of the class, and when the bell rang I gathered my books together and stood. He waited on the other side of the desk for me to move past him, and then followed behind me as I walked out of the room. I paused and glanced at his still, serious face.

"Bella." His hand reached out and briefly touched my back. I waited, but he just frowned a little and said, "I'll see you tomorrow."

I watched as he walked away, head down and hands shoved into his pockets. What was that about?

I saw him in the parking lot after school let out, leaning against his shiny silver Volvo and watching me broodingly. I lifted my hand in a half-hearted wave, and he nodded, never taking his eyes from me. I wondered if he regretted his outburst before Biology, admitting he liked me and touching my cheek. My stomach clenched at the thought. Those precious few minutes were already a prized memory to be pulled out later and lingered over in private. It would be depressing to think he was regretting his words or actions. I had hopes that maybe something really was happening between us. Of course, I was scared, deep down, that it was all a trick or figment of my overactive imagination. That seemed more of a reality, in all honesty. I expected to wake up any minute with Alice shouting "as if, you horny idiot!" in my face. That was easier to believe than Edward Cullen actually wanting to spend any time in my company.

We all went to the Homecoming football game together on Friday night, and I watched from the stands as Edward rode in a convertible with the captains and other alternate captains of the basketball, baseball, football, and hockey teams, waving and looking incredible in his letter jacket. I saw photos of Alice and Jasper, Angela and Ben all dressed up in their finery taken Saturday night before they left for the dance. Jasper let it slip that Edward had left that morning to go to Vancouver for the weekend with his dad. They were going to see a NHL hockey game and meet with some scouts.

I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that he had wanted to ask me to the Homecoming Dance. He'd been acting the same toward me all week after that disastrous conversation – a little flirty, a lot fun, but he didn't ask me out on an official date or anything. Of course, I'm pretty sure I compared going to the dance with him to having the plague and laughed in his face, even if it was unwitting on my part, and I didn't think even Edward Cullen would have the guts to ask a girl out again after that. I was torn between hoping Alice had been right – which meant I was the biggest idiot alive – and that she was wrong – which meant Edward just wanted to be friends. I'm pretty certain I'd rather be an idiot.

I spent long nights the next week tossing and turning in my bed, pulling out every small feature of him during the days, always going back to Alice's lecture. I was overanalyzing every small detail. She kept reminding me that Edward's first hockey game of the season was coming up that weekend, so I had him more on the brain than usual. I was, for some reason, very excited to see him play, to see him in his element. As a result I was sleeping poorly, so much that even Charlie noticed by Friday morning.

"You feeling okay, Bells?" he asked over a quick breakfast of cold cereal.

"Yeah, Dad, I just didn't sleep very well last night."

Charlie grunted, taking his dish to the sink and moving to the hall to grab his coat and strap on his gun belt. "Good thing it's Friday. Any plans for the weekend?"

I debated, but figured it would be a good thing to let him get used to the idea. "Um, I'm going to a hockey game with Alice and her boyfriend Jasper tomorrow night. And Angela and Ben."

"Hockey game?" he paused, raising an eyebrow in question. I didn't blame him. I'd never been much for attending sporting events in the past.

"Yeah, there's a school hockey game Saturday night." I tried to act nonchalant.

He mulled this over, and then his other brow arched. "Alice has a boyfriend?" Alice had wrapped Charlie around her tiny little finger the second she met him, much like she had with the rest of us.

"Yeah, Jasper Whitlock. Remember I told you she was seeing him?" He was so oblivious sometimes, although that was usually a pretty good thing.

"Hm," he grunted. "Nice family." That meant the Whitlock kids hadn't been in trouble with the law. Charlie knew most of the town's families, a benefit of being Police Chief. "The daughter raised a little hell with the Cullen boy before they went off to college."

"The Cullens?" I tried to be casual, not meeting his eyes as I toyed with my cereal.

Charlie zipped up his jacket and smiled to himself. There must really be some good stories there. "Yeah, the older one, the football player, Emmett?"

"Hmm." I stuck the spoon in my mouth to prevent any further comments from bursting out and raising Charlie's suspicions.

"Don't you know the younger Cullen boy? He's your age. Isn't he in your class?" Charlie dug his keys out of his pocket and moved toward the door.

I sucked hard on the spoon and kept my head down, my hair covering my pink face. It was a dead giveaway. "Mm. Yeah. He's my Biology lab partner, actually."

"Oh, I knew he was your age. Well, see you tonight, Bells," he called, and slammed the door behind him.

I let out a gusty sigh – crisis averted. The last thing I needed was Charlie getting all inquisitive parent on me before there was anything to be inquisitive about. As if there ever would be anything to get inquisitive about…Just the thought of bringing Edward here, of being in a situation where he would meet Charlie, was enough to get the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Eh, enough Edward fantasies this early in the morning, I had to get moving if I was going to make it to school on time.

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**Don't miss the next installment, when they **_**finally**_** get their shit together: **

**Was he asking me out? On a date? Edward Cullen? I better not screw this up or Alice would kill me...**


	7. Chapter 7: Equalizer

**Stephenie Meyer = The Original. Me & this story = just having some fun**

**Betas do it better - thanks Sarahsumbrella and silentnc!**

**A big thank you to everyone who is alerting and favoriting - I'm blown away. Huge thanks to those who take the time to let me know what you think of this little story by pressing the review button!**

**Edward says Game On**

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**CHAPTER 7: Equalizer**

I followed Alice in her yellow Porsche into the school parking lot – the show off. To my surprise, Jasper got out of the driver's side after parking, and Alice was in the passenger seat. I hadn't thought she'd let anyone drive her baby; she barely let me sit in it. This was a new development, her picking him up before school. It was true that they didn't live very far from each other, but I knew from my observations that Jasper and Edward usually took turns driving to school together. I guess I had been observing Edward Cullen more than I realized over the past couple of years. Pathetic.

I pulled into the spot next to the Porsche. "Morning, Bella!" Alice called as I got out of my old truck.

She and Jasper walked around the car to me, arms around each other. It was nice to see. Jasper smiled and nodded at me, a man of few words, and I returned the silent greeting.

"You two must be serious. Alice doesn't let anyone touch her car," I commented, falling into step with them as we walked across the student parking lot to the building.

Alice gave Jasper a quick squeeze and grinned. "He's proven himself worthy."

I choked, quickly trying to cover it with a cough. I distinctly remember Alice telling me she wouldn't let anyone drive her car until she knew they could use their hands, and use them well. She had claimed the best way to tell that was to have their hands on her first, kind of like a trial run. I thought she was joking, but I should have known better. Jasper smiled smugly and kissed the top of her head.

Edward was parked in his usual spot up front, leaning against his Volvo and waiting for us. Well, he was probably waiting for Jasper, I'm sure. He looked more rested—the dark circles under his eyes were pretty much gone. I forced my eyes away from his face and took in the rest of him. I did a double take and tried not to stare. I could see a collared shirt and tie peeking out of the neckline of his zipped up letter jacket, and he had on a pair of smooth, amazingly fitted dress pants.

"You look very nice, Mr. Cullen," Alice commented, letting go of Jasper long enough to stand on tip toe and straighten the knot in his tie. "What's the occasion?"

He smirked at her. "We dress up the day of, or in this case, the day before, a game." He shrugged. "Just something Coach has us do. Wear a dress shirt and tie, and then cover it up under our jersey. It's weird, but whatever."

Alice grabbed the zipper on his jacket and lowered it to see for herself. I wanted to slap her hands away, shove her down on the ground, and do it myself. I gripped my book bag tighter.

"Oh." She glowered. The oversize hockey jersey covering the shirt and tie seriously offended her fashion sense. She grabbed his waist and spun him around, and I almost laughed at the shocked expression on his face. He obviously wasn't used to the force of nature that was Alice.

"How do you get that huge jersey all tucked in without it showing?" She was staring at his ass. So was I. Smooth and faultless, not a wrinkle or bunch from the jersey to mar the perfect slope...Holy hell.

He twisted around to look, frowning, with a faint blush on his cheeks. Good, I wasn't the only one always embarrassed. "I have no idea, Alice. I just tuck it in."

"Well, good job." She ran her hand over his butt and gave it a friendly smack. Raging jealousy consumed me, how could she do that so casually and get away with it? I wanted to be the one touching his ass – I could hardly stand it. Of course, I wouldn't want to stop at just a friendly smack, although I could definitely get material to go on from there...

Jasper just shook his head, took her hand, and led her away. Edward was still standing there with a stunned expression. I took pity on him; I knew how it felt to get run over by Alice.

"C'mon, Sport. The best thing to do is just shake it off and forget about it."

He did give his head a slight shake, and then met my gaze. "What the hell was that?"

"Alice," I told him sagely. "Get used to it."

"Did she just grab my ass?"

"Yep. I believe she did."

"Oh." He gave his head another quick shake. "Okay."

"I know, kind of a lot to take in first thing in the morning. I don't think she sleeps. Ever."

He laughed, and we walked side by side toward the school building. "She's, ah, definitely unique."

"She's great." I snuck a look at him. Was he mad? I hoped not. Alice was just...well, _Alice_.

"Yeah, she is," he replied, and I sighed quietly in relief. "She's great for Jasper. I've never seen him so into a girl before."

"That's so cool. I know she's crazy about him, but that's pretty obvious. She's not the type to be shy and retiring about her feelings."

"No," he agreed, grinning down at me. We had reached the building, and he held the door open for me so I could walk under his arm.

"I'll see you at lunch?" I asked, my voice almost pitifully hopeful.

"Yeah." His grin softened into a genuine smile. "See you, Bella."

-0-

Edward did come with Jasper to sit with us in the cafeteria, and he definitely looked less exhausted. I wondered if he had been getting some nap-time in, which brought an instant image of him standing in front of me, sleepy and acquiescent, as I stripped him down and tucked him to bed…and then burrowed naked under the covers with him. Jesus, would I ever be able to see him and not have indecent thoughts pop into my head? I hoped not. Inner Slut Girl and I had a very copacetic relationship lately.

I was aware of the curious looks we received as he and Jasper made themselves at home at our table, relaxing and chatting. I wondered irritably if everyone's lives were so boring that the smallest change in the usual routine was worthy of such attention, before I realized that probably anything Edward Cullen did was cause for speculation. I felt kind of bad for him, remembering what he said to me outside of Biology class. It would suck to always have people watching everything you did, talking and making things up about you. I was definitely a fly-under-the-radar type of person myself. I thought about some of the rumors I'd heard about him over the past few years and wondered what was actually true. I didn't want to ask him about it, though, for fear it would upset him like it had last week.

"You're being quiet today," he said to me, bringing me out of my reverie. "What are you thinking about?"

"Not much," I said, picking at my sandwich and glancing around the cafeteria.

He narrowed his eyes. "Sometimes, everything you're feeling shows on your face. Most of the time, though, I have no idea what you're thinking. You're very difficult for me to read, you know."

I looked at him, startled. "Why would you want to read me?"

He gave a little half-shrug. "I'm very curious."

"About what? Me?"

"Well, yeah." He didn't drop his eyes.

"I'm not very interesting," I mumbled, breaking his gaze and looking down.

"I think you are." He leaned forward when I refused to look up at him. "Bella." He waited until I shyly raised my eyes to his. "Tell me, what were you thinking when I said you were being quiet."

I looked around the room again. "I was thinking that everyone was staring at us."

He glanced around, too. "Yeah, I guess they are. Does it bother you?"

"Doesn't it bother you?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Sometimes. Can't stop it, though. You kind of get used to it."

I gave a small shudder. "That sucks."

"Yeah," he agreed, sitting back in his chair and watching me. It made me a little self-conscious. "You tend to develop a kind of sense for people. Those who are interested in you for the cheap thrill, for what they think you can do for them or what they can get from you, and those who are really interested in _you_."

"I guess that's what comes with being a sports star. And...so good looking." I couldn't meet his eyes as I said it.

He was quiet, and his hand reached out to cover mine where it was picking relentlessly at the crust of my sandwich. "I guess. I always thought those should be good things, but sometimes... sometimes they're not."

My eyes focused on the hand covering mine. "Yeah, I would have thought so, too, before I got to know you."

"So, which one are you, Bella?" He was looking at our hands, too, but made no move to pull away.

"Which one, what?"

"The cheap thrill kind, or the really interested?"

"Can't you tell? I thought you said you had a good sense for that."

He smiled and looked up at me. "Yeah, but I also said you were very difficult for me to read. This is...weird." He lifted his hand and gestured between the two of us. "Different, I mean. It just feels..." he trailed off, shaking his head. "I don't know how to explain it. Do you know what I'm saying?"

I nodded shakily, not trusting my voice. I couldn't help the buzz that shot through me to think he felt the same curiosity and connection that I did. It seemed impossible, and I needed some time to really examine the prospect in my head. Edward Cullen, interested in _me_? He was obviously as confused about this weird thing between us as I was, but most likely for different reasons. He was gorgeous and tall, athletic and popular, and I...wasn't.

"So that makes you interested?" he asked, and I was mildly surprised that he seemed to need the assurance. How in the world could he doubt his appeal? Although, from the little lecture he had delivered last week, it sounded like there were few people he felt he could trust. I nodded again with a shy smile.

"Good." He grinned and stood up. I looked around in surprise—the bell had rung and everyone was filing out of the cafeteria to go to class. I hadn't been aware of anything other than him. "I have about a million questions."

"Questions?" I repeated and cleared my throat. My voice was alarmingly high-pitched. I followed him as he tossed the remains of his lunch in the garbage and we headed for Biology class.

"Tons," he assured me, the grin still on his gorgeous face. "And then it can be your turn."

Hmm, that might almost be worth it.

Thank goodness it was a lab day in Biology. We could work on the assigned project and talk freely without having to worry about getting caught by Mr. Banner. It was becoming a habit, the two of us in our own little bubble, almost unaware of everyone around us. Was this how it was supposed to be, this attraction, this exclusive fascination, hanging on every word? I had nothing to reference. I'd never felt anything like it before. The mess of all the emotions was almost nauseating, but in a strangely thrilling way.

He was firing questions at me, starting out easy – favorites, hobbies, interests – before getting into queries that required some consideration. Why I liked the books I did, what kind of music touched me. We discovered we had similar eclectic taste in music. I found out that the symbols he had been scribbling in the margin of his notes the first day of Biology were musical notes…he composed. It amazed me, the ability to do that was so fantastical and foreign. He told me how he bargained for guitar lessons when he was little – like he wanted – if he took piano lessons – like his mom wanted – until he realized how much he enjoyed both. I stared at him in admiration, and he broke off, looking nervous.

"What?"

I shook my head. "Are you for real?"

His face took on that defensive look. "What do you mean?"

I smiled and tipped my head, considering. "You're such a rock star. Athletic, smart, musical, funny, and good looking. It's like you're something someone made up."

His face flushed slightly, but his eyes were almost sad. "Oh, I'm real, all right. And far from perfect."

"What, you have a deformed left kneecap?" I teased, trying to lighten the mood.

"And a third nipple," he smirked. I gulped, willing mine into obedience. It would be too obvious if I had to grab my bag and clutch it to my chest.

Mr. Banner called an end to the lab, and we put the equipment away, finishing just before the bell rang. I was disappointed to bring an end to our time together for the day. Edward cleared his throat as he waited for me to gather my things, standing on the other side of the table and shifting a little. I looked up at him curiously. It was unlike him to fidget.

"Um, Bella, can I ask you something?"

"What, you didn't cover it in the past hour?" I joked.

"No." He put his hand on my arm to keep me from moving past him, and now I was really curious. His hand dropped back to his side. "Actually, I, uh, have more. Questions, I mean. I was wondering...maybe we could cover it later? Like, I don't know, dinner or heading out for ice cream tonight, or something?"

My brain stopped functioning, stunned with the implication. Was he asking me out? On a date? Edward Cullen? I better not screw this up or Alice would kill me, but I didn't want to be pathetically eager and misinterpret, either.

"Bella?" he was watching me nervously.

"Oh, sorry. Yeah. I'd like that. Very much." I peeked up at him, and he grinned, blowing out a breath in relief and exaggeratedly wiping his brow. I laughed. "Oh, yeah, like you didn't know I'd say yes," I teased. I felt a twinge of guilt as I remembered I'd shot him down about the Homecoming dance.

"Bella," he said, leaning down to my ear and walking with me out of the classroom. "I told you, I have no idea what goes on in that pretty little head of yours. It's very frustrating."

I grinned and shook my head at his silliness. "Well, I have to make Charlie dinner. He can't cook _at all_. Would it be okay if we did something after that?" Oh God, it suddenly occurred to me I would have to explain my date to Charlie. This would take some consideration.

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. "Here, put your number in so I have it." I took it, and punched in my home number. It was an iPhone, of course, and I had no idea how to save it. He took the phone back and played with it for a second. "Okay, what's your cell," he demanded. I gave it to him, and he put that in as well, before hitting the send button. "So you have my number," he explained.

My cell rang in the depths of my bag, and I stopped for a second to find it. I hit "save" and typed in "Edward Cell." "Okay, your home number now," I asked. He gave it to me, and we just stood there, smiling at each other.

"Thanks," I said softly, my heart flying.

"Yeah," he returned, and started walking backward with a grin. "I'll call you later."

He kept walking backwards until he ran into some unfortunate freshman, practically flattening him in the hall. "Sorry, kid," he laughed, ruffling the poor guy's hair and winking at me as disappeared around the corner, whistling cheerfully.

* * *

**Oh, Bella...**

**I knew I had to stop overanalyzing every little thing he said, but my mind went back to the whole sex thing and I thought I might hyperventilate.**


	8. Chapter 8: Shot On Goal

**Stephenie Meyer thought up the good stuff, published it, and made lots of people happy (and lots of money). I thought up this stuff, posted it, and hope it makes a few people happy (and get no money).**

**If I did make money** **for this, I'd share with silentnc and Sarahsumbrella for beta-ing. Appreciate you guys, and thanks!**

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**CHAPTER 8: Shot On Goal**

I was positively floating all afternoon. Angela asked if I wanted to do something with her and Ben that night, and I was absolutely thrilled to tell her to have fun, just the two of them, _I had plans_. Of course, she asked me what they were, and I had to tell her. We squealed over the possibilities, and it felt good just to be silly and excited and happy for a few minutes. I made her promise not to tell Alice. I wanted to break the news to her myself, but not tonight. She'd be over here in a flash orchestrating everything, and I was nervous enough as it was. I knew I'd pay for it later, but I pushed that one worry aside. I had so many others to consider.

Edward had called just an hour after I got home from school saying he would pick me up at seven-thirty. I asked him if he wanted to meet Charlie, and after a short, contemplative silence he agreed he probably should. That thrilled me even more, although I didn't say anything. I figured if he wasn't truly interested in me he would blow off meeting the parent, but if he was putting himself through the stress and hassle, he must actually want to see me more than this one time. Trust me, meeting your date's father was bad enough, but multiply it by one thousand when he was the Chief of Police.

I whipped dinner together and had it practically on the table when Charlie got home a little after six. He inhaled appreciatively, sitting in his chair and watching me fly around the kitchen. "You look like you're in a good mood," he observed.

"Yeah," I agreed. "Um, Dad?"

"What's up, Bells? Mmm, this is good."

"Thanks." I paused. I had rehearsed this in my mind all afternoon, but now that it was crunch time I was finding it difficult to get the words out in a coherent manner. "Uh, I'm going out tonight, okay?"

"Sure." Charlie flipped through the sports section of the paper as he ate. "Where are you going?"

"Well, I don't really know." He looked up at me, either my evasiveness or uncomfortable tone finally gaining his notice.

"You don't know?" he asked.

"Um, not exactly. See, I, uh, I guess...I kind of have a...well, a date."

His eyebrow arched and he set down his fork. I had his full attention. "A date? With whom?"

"Um, Edward Cullen."

His brows crashed down and he scowled. Uh-oh. "The Cullen boy? Weren't we just talking about him last week?"

"I think you were talking about his older brother."

"How long has this been going on?"

"Nothing's been 'going on', Dad. He just asked me out today!" I took our dishes to the sink.

"Where is he taking you?" he asked.

I laboriously wiped the table, sneaking a glance at his face. It wasn't red, so that was a good sign. "I told you, I don't know for sure. I think we're going to get ice cream at the Diner or something. No big deal."

"Is he coming here?" Charlie looked thoughtful now. "Picking you up?"

"Yes." I rolled my eyes. "Be nice, dad."

"Hey!" he protested. "I'm a nice guy."

"No guns," I joked. He was looking thoughtful again, back to uh-oh. "C'mon, Dad. Seriously. I, well, I really like him."

Charlie stared at me in surprise. I knew I had thrown him; we never talked about boys. I'd never mentioned liking anyone to my dad, and definitely hadn't ever brought one home to meet him like this. There had only ever been my good friend Jacob, but I never felt about him the way I felt about Edward. Jacob was more of a family friend. Charlie sighed and got up from the table.

"I'll be a perfect angel," he said to me, but as he walked to the family room I thought I heard him mumble something like "always knew this was coming" and "rather take a sharp stick in the eye," but I could have been mistaken.

After cleaning the kitchen, I ran upstairs to get ready. I could feel the nerves fluttering through my belly, and tried to calm myself by remembering how much I enjoyed talking with Edward in Biology class. We'd both opened up and learned a lot about each other today, but there were still so many things I wanted to know about him.

Crap, I had no idea what I should wear. This was so not my area of expertise. I couldn't call Alice, though; I just couldn't get into it with her right now. I settled for my usual jeans, but dressed them up a little with a pretty blue top. It had a wide, round neckline that went from one shoulder to the other, and a high drawstring waist to give it shape. Okay, so far so good. I was hopeless with makeup so I just brushed some powder over my pale skin and added a couple of swipes of mascara. Hmm, not bad. I ran the brush through my hair – nothing much else could be done with that heavy mass – and I was set.

I glanced at the clock. 7:10. It would be pure torture to go downstairs and wait with Charlie, so I took advantage of the extra time and opened the homepage on my computer. I Googled "ice hockey," figuring I might as well see what else I could pick up about the game so maybe I could talk to him a little about his sport. After about ten minutes I closed it in frustration. Oh well, I'd either have to break down and ask him about a billion questions, or suffer through Alice's explanations tomorrow night at his game.

At 7:25 I ran down the stairs. Edward seemed like the on-time type. I pulled the curtains in the front window back to peer out into the dark, and jerked back as headlights flashed across the front of the house. Oh God, I hoped he hadn't seen me looking out and waiting for him like some overeager loser. I spun around, and saw that Charlie was watching me incredulously.

"What?" I demanded. "He's here. I think. I think that's him. It's probably him. Should I get the door? No, you probably should. Will you get it? No! Wait!" I flung my hands out at him as he started to rise from his chair, and he froze. "I'll get it. I'm sure he doesn't want to see Dad the Police Chief first thing, give him a second to adjust. Right? Don't you think?" The doorbell rang, and I jumped as if I'd been goosed. "I'll get it. Dad! Be nice," I reminded him, and dashed down the hall to the front door.

"Ooo-kay," I heard Charlie mumble, and realized I was acting like a lunatic. I paused before the door and took a deep breath, shaking my hands to loosen them. _Calm down, Swan_.

I pulled the door open, and there he was—Edward Cullen, standing on _my_ front door step—tall, gorgeous, smelling fantastic, and smiling down at me. I just stared at him, leaning against the door for support.

"Hey, Bella," he greeted me, and I'll be damned. He was real, not a figment of my imagination. I reached out to touch the sleeve of his leather jacket just to make sure and returned his smile. I heard him take a sharp breath as he just stood there, staring at me.

"Hey. Come on in."

I stood back, and he walked into the hallway. I inhaled deeply as he brushed past me; his smell was like a drug. _Yum_. He smiled at me, his eyes taking in my face, and he looked perfectly calm. Good thing he was—I was spastic enough for both of us. I led Edward into the family room where Charlie was sitting in his chair. He stood up at our entrance, and I watched him closely. He had a very neutral expression on his face. I had no idea what he was thinking.

"Um, Dad, this is Edward Cullen. Edward, this is my dad, Charlie."

Edward walked over to him, holding out his hand. "Hello, Chief Swan."

"Edward." Charlie gave his hand a brief, firm shake and went back to just looking at us. I shifted uncomfortably. "Where are you two headed this evening?"

Edward smiled slightly. "I thought I'd take Bella out for some ice cream at the Diner. We won't be out too late."

I grabbed my jacket off the back of the sofa, and Edward took it from me, holding it out so I could slip my arms through the sleeves. I snuck another peek at Charlie. No help there; he was still wearing cop face. It was time to hurry on out of here.

"So, Edward," Charlie began, and I cringed. Crap – not fast enough. Edward turned to face him with a small wink for me. "How's your brother?"

"Fine," he answered with a slightly puzzled smile. "Doing well, last we heard from him."

"And Rosalie?" Charlie continued with a pointed look. "Is he still seeing her?"

Edward's face tinted slightly. He must have caught on quicker than I did; I had no idea why Charlie would bring up his older brother and his girlfriend. I had a suspicion that it wasn't just idle curiosity about the local football hero, though. "Uh, yes, he is."

"Hmm. Well." Charlie rocked back on his heels, putting his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. As an innocent gesture, it wasn't working. He was up to something. He looked at Edward and then pointedly back at me. "You planning on following in his footsteps?"

Edward followed his gaze to me, and his eyes sharpened as they flew back to Charlie's. I was still lost. What the hell was Charlie getting at? Edward didn't play football—why would my dad ask about following in his older brother's footsteps?

He met my father's stare straight on with a wry expression. "Chief Swan, I don't think it's humanly possible for anyone to follow in Emmett's footsteps."

Charlie grunted and hid a quick grin. He gave Edward a nod in acknowledgement, but I felt as though I missed the entire scene, act, and play. "You two be careful," Charlie said, and I glared at him as we walked past, pulling my hair out from under the collar of my jacket.

Edward and I walked in silence to the Volvo. He opened the door and shut it firmly once I was seated. I took a deep breath and shut my eyes in sensory pleasure, savoring my first time in his car and the amazing scent of Edward and fine leather. I only had a couple of seconds to bliss out as he walked around to the driver's side. I didn't want him to see me acting like some freaky pervert.

"So, what was that all about with Charlie?" I asked as soon as he we were out on the road.

He chuckled. "Your dad was just making a point."

"Well, I missed it," I said irritably. "Want to fill me in?"

His smile widened as he leaned forward, adjusting the seatbelt and settling into his seat. He met my curious gaze. "Let's just say Emmett and Rosalie would have had a lot more indecent exposure charges on their records if it wasn't for your dad. Probably a lot more than anyone cares to think about." He chuckled again.

"Indecent exposure charges?" It still wasn't making sense. What did that have to do with Edward and me…oh. _Oh_! I felt the blush creeping across my cheeks. Damn Charlie.

"It was a pretty good way of making a point, I have to hand it to him," Edward commented. "Very subtle, but he got the message across."

Well, I didn't have to hand Charlie anything except a piece of my mind, that's for sure. I was fuming. I had heard the many and varied stories of Emmett Cullen and Rosalie Whitlock getting pulled out of janitor closets, the music room, backseats of cars, and on one memorable occasion, the principal's office. It was mortifying to think my dad felt the need to warn Edward, on our first date, not to follow in his brother's footsteps. Of course, this brought to mind Edward being indecently exposed in front of me...Oh God. I never realized what a glorious creature Inner Slut Girl was until I met Edward Cullen. The bitch _loved_ him.

"Emmett is a very...enthusiastic person. About pretty much everything, but especially sex. And when he met Rosalie, well, let's just say those two are true soul mates." He laughed. "You'll see when you meet them."

I sat in stunned silence. First, I was (very immaturely, I know) _squealing_ inside because he'd actually said the word "sex" in front of me, and Inner Slut Girl was reduced to a slobbering mess. Second, he'd said _when _I met his brother, which implied, one, he planned on seeing me in the future, and two, he wanted me to meet his family. I knew I had to stop overanalyzing every little thing he said, but my mind went back to the whole sex thing and I thought I might hyperventilate.

"Tell me what you're thinking," he demanded, and—_hell_ no.

"Nothing." I shook my head.

There was a short, uneasy silence. "Hey, "he said softly. "I'm sorry. I guess I shouldn't have said anything about Emmett and Rose. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"Oh, no!" I rushed to assure him. "I was just thinking what a little sneak Charlie is, although the Emmett and Rose stuff _was_ a little TMI. How the hell will I ever be able to look them in the face?"

He glanced at me doubtfully, and I took a deep breath. I had to ask him—I was making myself sick with wonder and worry, and it would be better to get it out in the open and over with now, if that's where we were heading. "And...I guess I was a little surprised. You want me to meet your family?"

He examined my face, not saying anything, and turned into the parking lot of our local retro '50s diner. I started to get a little freaked out, even though I was trying to tell myself that I wouldn't be surprised when he told me I was crazy and way out of line for thinking he would ever be serious enough about me to bring me to his house and introduce me to his family...

"Bella, whatever you're thinking, stop." He parked, shutting off the car and turning to face me. "I think we need to get a couple of things straight, right now."

Oh God, here it comes. My stomach felt like lead, and I hated that I had to fight back tears. Here comes the "you're a nice girl but I only think of you as a friend so stop wanting to lick my bod" speech. I thought I had myself prepared for this eventuality, but it was obvious I hadn't. I had been stupidly harboring hopes that he actually liked me the same way I liked him, that someone as amazing as Edward Cullen could possibly –

"Bella." He stopped my agonizing thoughts once again, this time by putting his hand under my chin and lifting my face to meet his. "This is hard for me to say, but I'm getting the feeling it needs to be done now, sooner than later."

I shut my eyes, not wanting him to see how much this was going to hurt me. I didn't have any shields right now. I'd been seriously deluding myself about how badly I wanted there to be something between us. The tips of his fingers stroked my jaw—was the bastard trying to torture me as well as break my heart?

"Bella," he said again, more insistently. "I like you. I really do. But I keep getting a weird vibe from you, like you keep waiting for me to lower the hatchet on your head, or say the wrong thing, or boil your puppy. It makes me seriously crazy when you do that, because otherwise I really like talking to you and hanging out with you. I was...kind of hoping you felt the same way, but it's just so hard to tell with you."

My eyes popped open as I tried to figure out what he was telling me. Wait, was he saying he wanted to be with me, or that I was freaking him out?

"Huh?" was all I could manage.

He laughed uneasily. "Shit, Bella, I haven't been this nervous since I asked Stacey Hamilton if she wanted to be my girlfriend in the sixth grade. I have no idea what you're thinking. Just when I think you do want to go out with me, you start acting like you're having second thoughts and are above dating the stupid high school jock."

"You're not stupid!" I protested automatically. "Edward, that's not it at all. I want to go out with you. More than I should. It's just...I can't believe...you're interested in me."

"Why wouldn't I be?" He sounded so honestly bewildered that I threw myself across the console and just hugged the shit out of him. His arms came around me after a brief, startled moment, and I thought I felt the quick, cool intake of his breath on the crown of my head.

"Not that I'm protesting or anything," he said, his velvet voice slightly muffled against my hair. "But what the fuck, Bella?"

I sat back in my seat and grinned at him sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Edward. It's me, my stupid insecurity, I guess. It's not that I don't want you—to go out with you," I amended quickly. "I just can't wrap my brain around the fact you want to go out with me."

He just looked at me with a stunned expression for a second and then shook his head, opening the car door. "Totally not expecting you to say that. That's just stupid, Bella. I wouldn't spend all this time trying to figure you out if I wasn't interested." It sounded like he added "fuckingchrist help me" as he rubbed his nose and rounded the front of the car to open my door.

I smiled to myself. He was so honestly frustrated and amazed that I couldn't help but believe him. His sincerely confused attitude convinced me he really did like me, more than any words he could have said. My spirits soared as I let myself start to accept the fact that this beautiful boy was a gift that might be meant for me after all.

Our hands naturally ended up together as we walked to the diner, and I could barely contain myself as another happy thrill shot through me. "So, whatever happened with Stacey Hamilton?" I asked.

He crooked that half smile at me, the one that made me want to drag him behind the building and do rude things. "She said yes, but when I tried to hold her hand at lunch she kicked me in the balls and ran off screaming. Story of my life. It's a wonder I ever got the nerve to even talk to a girl again."

"You obviously got your courage back," I teased, swinging our joined hands up to eye level and looking at them meaningfully. I tightened my fingers on his.

He gave a quick squeeze in return and playfully cupped a hand between his legs, twisting his hips to the side. I almost fainted. "I think you're worth the risk." He winked and held the door open for me as we went inside the diner.

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**Oh, I'm a meanie... **

**He was only millimeters away when he tipped his head slightly, his eyes drifting half shut as he brought his mouth to mine…**


	9. Chapter 9: One On One

**Stephenie Meyer owns all rights to everything Twilight. I'm having weird thoughts about her characters and posting them in public forums. Huh.**

**Dear betas Sarahsumbrella and silentnc, thank you, Love, m**

**If you like scary things, I'm on twitter now. I know nothing about it, so join me at your own risk ! Link is on my profile.**

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**CHAPTER 9: One On One**

We walked into the diner, still holding hands and grinning at each other like idiots. The hostess stood just inside the entrance with menus in hand.

"Hi, Edward!" Her face lit up when she saw him. I guess I was invisible.

"Hey. Can we get a table for two?"

He slipped his hand out of mine but placed it on my lower back lightly as we paused. I could feel the electric tingle his touch invoked shoot down to my toes, making that wonderful area between my thighs flutter. I started in surprise at the strength and pleasure of the feeling. Edward leaned down to murmur in my ear, "Good. You feel it, too."

Now I was pretty positive he didn't have _those_ muscles between his legs, but obviously he could feel that thrilling connection when we touched, even in the most casual way. I felt my eyes drift down unconsciously to what was between his legs, and I had to make a pretense of rubbing my eyebrow so he couldn't see the expression on my face when I realized what I was doing. I had no control where he was concerned; I was finding myself doing and thinking things I had never considered before in my entire life. It was absolutely freaking _wonderful_.

I realized the hostess was looking at me strangely as he put gentle pressure on my back where his hand rested to urge me to follow her. "Here you go," she said, stopping in front of a small booth and placing the menus down on the table. "Enjoy." She smiled at Edward, gave me a look, and flipped her hair as she walked away. I had to laugh.

"What?" he asked.

"I think that girl just flipped me off with her hair."

"Flipped you off with her...what?"

"It's a girl thing," I said. I opened the menu, still grinning. _Eat your heart out, bitch_.

He stared at me for a second and then shook his head. "Again, no idea what you're thinking," he muttered.

"Eh," I said, lighthearted and happy.

He was here with me – with _me – _in one of the most popular hangouts in Forks on a Friday night. He'd asked me to go out with him. I could look a few measly feet, inches really, across the table at his glorious face and stare all I wanted. He would smile at me and talk in that amazingly intimate way he had, and I would feel like I belonged with him. For a little while.

"So, what's your pleasure?" he asked, opening his menu to the dessert section and pushing it between us so I could look.

_You_, I thought, still smiling faintly and just staring at his face as he leaned toward me. Your pleasure. My pleasure. Us, together. Being pleasurable. Doing pleasurable. Having pleasurable...

"Bella?" he questioned.

_Oops. _Public place. He was looking right at me. _Gah_. "Ice cream sundae, of course."

"Right," he grinned.

The diner was famous for their sundaes. They came in a mind-boggling array of flavors and combinations. The best part was that they came in gallon-sized glass measuring bowls and were absolutely enormous. The locally-made, home-churned ice cream was one of the best things I had ever tasted.

We decided on the hot fudge brownie version, and gave our order to the waiter. I was kind of happy to see it was a guy – I wouldn't have to deal with any more glares from skanky chicks for a while. I wondered if it was like that for him everywhere, all the time, if girls just gravitated to him. My eyes traced the defined planes of his face – those cheekbones and that fabulous jawline – and I figured they probably did. Add to that his tall, lean, muscular frame and mile wide shoulders...Holy hell. What was he doing here with me?

I chewed my lip and made a decision that very instant. Sitting across from him, realizing he looked content and happy to be with me, I decided I would do my best to not worry about the unfathomable inequality and stop questioning his motives as best I could. I was going to do everything in my power to keep this amazing miracle. Not only was I a very intelligent girl, but I also had exceptionally crafty friends I could call on to help. I could do this.

"Did you want to change the order?" he asked, looking at me with concern.

"Change the order? For the sundae? No, why?"

"I don't know. You have a very...determined look on your face. You're not planning on hogging it all, are you?" he teased.

I laughed. The size of the sundae was immense. "No, I don't want to puke all over your pretty car." An expression of true horror crossed his face, and I laughed again. "Just kidding, Edward. I wouldn't waste perfectly good ice cream like that."

He chuckled, leaning back in the booth and stretching his arm along the back. I wanted to throw myself across the table and snuggle up in that intimate space right under his arm and against his chest. Inner Slut Girl needed to start making a list. There were so many things I wanted to do with Edward, and my resolve was steady—there was no way I was going to miss this chance. It may not make sense, it may be crazy and insane, but I was going to make the most of this opportunity and to hell with the rest. I was seventeen years old, for crying out loud; it was about time to let my hormones start having some input on my actions. I couldn't think of a more perfect candidate to let loose with than Edward Cullen. As long as he seemed willing to be with me, I was fiercely determined to go along for the ride.

Our giant sundae was served, and we laughed as we dug in. Alice, Angela, and I had spent many happy afternoons at the diner working on devouring the treat, but even between the three of us there was always a considerable amount left in the giant bowl. With Edward it quickly became apparent that if I didn't get my spoon in there I'd miss out on getting any at all. I'd noticed his appetite and ability to put away massive amounts of food during lunch at school, but this was ridiculous.

"Didn't you eat dinner?" I asked jokingly, once again having to smack his spoon out of the way with mine like we were fencing with swords. "That's my brownie! Back off!"

He grinned and licked his spoon lingeringly. I watched in fascination, experiencing the now-familiar tightening between my legs. I wanted to lean over and take a neat bite out of his full lower lip. "I've always had a sweet tooth," he admitted. "Love the shit."

"I have no idea where you put it all." I couldn't help an appreciative glance at his wide shoulders and lean waist.

He smirked. "Growing boy. Mom always said our grocery bills were like another mortgage payment."

I whacked his spoon – it was encroaching on my brownie yet again. "I can only imagine."

"It was ten times worse when Emmett was home. He puts me to shame." I could see him eyeing my side of the bowl, and I hovered my spoon defensively.

He told me about his family while we picked apart the sundae. I could hear the respect he had for his dad and the love for his mother in the tone of his voice and his words. The amused exasperation was also evident when he talked about his older brother, Emmett. He talked about all the times he had spent following his dad around at work in the hospital, and how he wanted to go medical school and eventually specialize in sports medicine.

I ended up telling him all about my parents, their divorce, and my decision to come live with Charlie all those years ago when my mom was trying to "find herself." He seemed faintly upset on my behalf until I explained that Renee really had gotten her life together, and we had a pretty good relationship now. I told him of her upcoming second wedding. She wanted a Thanksgiving ceremony – no cookie cutter Christmas theme for my mom. He laughed when I told him that she had been considering releasing turkeys instead of doves after the service until I explained to her that turkeys don't fly and they'd all probably get run over by cars.

We argued good naturedly about our favorite movies, the "new" classics versus the old, including those with the most iconic one-liners. He held out for the Star Wars Trilogy, while I maintained the superiority of The Princess Bride as far as having the best and most memorable lines.

He looked at me thoughtfully. "'Never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line.'" I cracked up, holding my full stomach.

A few people from school stopped by our table to say hi while we talked and laughed. Mostly girls, but some guys, too. He was pleasant, but seemed slightly exasperated by the interruptions. He introduced me to those people he knew well, nodding politely to those he didn't. He never took his focus off me; he made it very apparent we were together and wanted to be left to our conversation. No one had ever made me feel that way—like I was special, like no one else mattered—and he was doing it in front of a crowd of people at the most popular hangout in town on a Friday night. It was a heady experience. I glanced at the clock on the wall and realized we had been absorbed in each other for over two hours.

He grimaced. "Yeah, I guess they want their table back." He made no move to get up, and neither did I. He reached across the table to rest his hand on mine. "Bella?"

"Yes?" I stared at where he was touching me, enjoying the warmth of his skin and the slightly rough calluses on his palm and long fingers. I wanted to commit the feeling to memory.

"I'm glad you came with me tonight," he said softly, one side of his mouth curling up into that devastating smirk.

"I'm glad you asked me," I admitted, moving my gaze up to smile into his eyes.

He slowly drew his hand back, and I felt a stab of disappointment at the loss of contact. His long fingers plucked his napkin into pieces. "Are you still planning on coming to my game tomorrow?"

"Yep. I've never been to a live hockey game, though. I hope I don't embarrass myself." The thought of being so near to that much ice freaked me out a little. The accident potential was enormous.

"You?" he said incredulously. "I hope I don't embarrass _myself_!"

"How could you do that?" I asked.

He was quiet for a second, staring down at the shredded napkin. "It's been a really long time since I wanted someone at one of my games. I'm glad you're coming." He rolled his eyes, breaking the seriousness of the moment. "I'll probably fall on my face or something. I haven't done that since I was about four years old."

"That's my trick," I teased. "I don't even need to have to be on the ice." I was stunned and thrilled at his admission. To know he wanted me to be there, watching him play...oh man, that was way too cool.

He stood, helping me on with my jacket and leaving a generous tip for the time we took up at the table. The same cashier from last week was at the register, and she looked at the two of us curiously. "Hi, Edward. Enjoy the ice cream?"

"Yeah, thanks, Chelsea." He smiled down at me, running his hand casually down my back. It came to rest at the base of my spine. "Do you know Bella?"

"No." She tore her eyes from him, giving me a cool glance.

"Bella, this is Chelsea. Chelsea, Bella."

"Hi," I said, trying to be casual as I leaned into him and rested my hand on his lower back, imitating his pose. My hand was so close to the top of his ass – my fingers twitched as I fought the urge to stroke and grab. It was my first weak attempt to stake a claim, and I didn't want to ruin it by making him yelp and jump away.

She nodded her head at me and handed him back his change. "Have a good night."

"Thanks." I threw a bright, over-wide grin her way as we walked out into the parking lot. My stomach swooped in delight as he took my hand again, and I tugged gently so his eyes met mine. "Thank you, Edward."

He looked at me for a second, and I thought he would ask why I was thanking him. He just smiled a beautiful, happy smile and said, "You're welcome, Bella."

We walked in silence to the Volvo, but I was strangely reluctant to get in the car. I didn't want the night with him to end just yet. I couldn't remember ever having such a mix of emotions inside of me. I was happy, anxious, confused, content, sad, excited, and despairing, all at once. He opened the passenger side door for me, and I looked at his quiet, contemplative face as I sat on the soft leather seat. He had one arm on the roof of the car and the other on the top of the door as he stood in the opening. His dark brows came together over the bridge of his nose as he bent slightly towards me. A flash of heat washed through my body at the sudden, strange tension between us. Was he thinking about kissing me? Oh God, _please_ yes.

Inner Slut Girl did some quick calculations. If he leaned down just a little bit more he would be off balance, and I could grab his jacket and tug him down on top of me. I could push with my legs and lay us both down across the front seat, but that would put the center console right in the middle of my back. It might hurt, but would having him stretched out full on top of me be worth the pain? Inner Slut Girl said _oh hell_ _yes_! Okay, but what were the chances that when I grabbed and yanked he would bang his head on either the car door or roof, and I'd knock him unconscious? Damn it, probably pretty good with my disastrous tendencies. I'd have to take him to the ER and explain to his father how he ended up on top of me and unconscious in the front seat of his car in the parking lot of the Forks Diner...That would be not good. I felt my cheeks flush, but it was more in response to imagining the feel of that long, hard body on top of mine than any embarrassment.

I was pulled out of these thoughts by his finger gently tracing my cheek. "You're blushing," he murmured, and the heat in my face intensified. "You have no idea...what that does to me." His hand came up now to cup the side of my face, his fingers on my jaw and his thumb continuing to brush along my cheekbone.

Slowly, so slowly, he leaned in toward me. The breath left my lungs in a harsh gasp and my heart galloped in my chest, causing a tight constriction that made it difficult to breathe. My eyes were locked on his as his face came steadily closer. My attention wavered to his mouth for a brief instant before flashing back to meet the slow burn of his green gaze. I heard him inhale sharply, but he kept bending toward me until I could feel his breath on my skin. My eyes fluttered, and I dimly tried to stop them as I did not want to miss an instant of his gorgeous, glorious face so close to mine. My heart continued to race as I held my breath. He was so close now that I could see the individual striations of color in his beautiful green eyes in the faint illumination from the Volvo's dome light. His lips parted, and I licked mine reflexively. A small hum escaped him. My mouth trembled as I felt the warmth of his skin and his breath radiate across the small distance between us. He was only millimeters away when he tipped his head slightly, his eyes drifting half-shut as he brought his mouth to mine...

Bright headlights flashed across our faces as a car pulled into an empty spot across from us. We both jerked back in surprise, startled at the intrusion on such a quiet and intimate moment, and his head hit the door with a solid thump. He scowled, glaring at the offending vehicle and rubbing the back of his head. He turned back to give me a regretful look, smiling that crooked half-smile as his shoulders twitched in a shrug. We stared at each other for another second until he slowly pushed the car door shut and walked around to the driver's side.

I wanted to shriek and sob in frustration. I wanted to stomp my feet and beat the crap out of whoever was driving that car. Edward had been _this close_ to kissing me! Why, oh why couldn't he have been quicker? What was with this slow shit? I'd been seconds from knowing what that full, wide mouth felt like on mine, what that marvelous hair felt like as my hands twisted in it. I tried to calm my breathing as he walked around the Volvo to the driver's side. The disappointment was absolutely crushing, and I didn't want him to realize I was heaving air in and out of my lungs like a racehorse that had been ridden hard and put away wet. Well, wet was right, but unfortunately not the ridden hard part... Inner Slut Girl let out a howl of anguish. I gritted my teeth and clenched my thighs together. Edward opened his door and got in the car, looking straight ahead and gripping the steering wheel. He let out a huge sigh as he turned to me.

"Bella..." he began, but his voice trailed off as his eyes intensified on my face. "Are you okay?"

I lowered my head to stare at my fingers twisting in my lap, letting my hair fall and cover my red face. I couldn't begin to imagine my expression.

" Look," he said softly, almost hesitantly. "I'm sorry -"

"No!" I practically shouted, whipping my head up to meet his chagrined gaze, which quickly changed to surprise. "No," I continued more softly. "Don't be sorry, Edward. _I'm_ sorry...that stupid car...I wish..." my voice faded in embarrassment.

A look of understanding crossed his face and he smiled. He reached out to place his large hand on my knee. The heat of his palm seared through my jeans, shooting straight down to my toes and up to the juncture of my thighs. _Argh_. He slowly drew his hand back, and I saw him clench it into a fist before relaxing again.

"I know, right?" He smiled that devastating smile and shrugged, tipping his head. "Bad time, bad place."

"We can always try for a better time and place, though, right?" I asked softly, boldly for me, returning my gaze to my lap. He was silent for a long moment, and I glanced back up to him to see if he was shocked and horrified at my words.

He was smiling, waiting for me to look at him. "I'll keep that in mind, Bella." I snorted in amusement.

He started the car, rolling down his window and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. I tore my eyes from his long, graceful hands as he turned to look at me again. His expression was thoughtful once more.

"Bella, I have something I need to do tonight." My stomach dropped at the thought that he was ending our time together. "Do you...that is, would you like to go with me, or should I drop you off at home?"

My heart soared. I didn't need to ask. It didn't matter what he was doing. It was still fairly early, and my curfew wasn't until midnight on the weekends. I wanted to be with him for as long as I possibly could. "I'd like to go with you, if you don't mind," I said softly.

"No, I don't mind. I'd like that, really." He just smiled at me for a couple of seconds, and I wanted to touch him. I wanted to bring my hands to his chin, his cheek, his hair, something, like he had done to me earlier. I was still way too timid, though, and settled for returning his smile.

We drove in comfortable silence for a few miles before my curiosity got the better of me. "Where are we going?" I asked.

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, seeming a little...embarrassed? Now I was really curious. "I've got to stop by the arena for a few."

"The arena?" I repeated, confused.

"The ice rink," he clarified, shifting in his seat. "Not for long. It's just something I do, something I have to do, the night before a game. Habit, I guess, or superstition. It won't take too long, I promise." He laughed self-deprecatingly. "You'll probably be bored out of your mind."

"That's okay," I told him. "I won't be bored if I'm with you." I froze. I hadn't meant to say that out loud.

He cast me a speculative and undeniably pleased look out of the corner of his eye. A broad grin spread across his face and he ducked his head in a nod. I swung my hair hide my face when he turned his attention back to the road, knowing my cheeks were bright red. I had no idea what we were going to do at the ice rink—I desperately hoped he didn't think we were going to _skate, _God help him—but whatever it was seemed important to him. I was insatiable when it came to any insight on Edward's habits and what made him tick. I was so in love with him, I would follow him anywhere without a second thought to self-preservation. Oh…oh God. Did I just admit to myself I was in_ love_ with him?

How could that be? I'd only really known him for the last couple of months. I'd never even come close to having these kinds of feelings for anyone before—it was all so new, strange, and overwhelming. But how could I _not_ be falling in love with Edward Cullen? He was smart and thoughtful and kind. He was tall and gorgeous and talented. He was like a superhero, and the heat between us practically singed my eyebrows. I knew all those things, but I didn't know the basics about his life. What he did when he wasn't at school or around his friends, what his family life was really like, what drove him, deep down inside. I wanted to know. I wanted to find out so badly.

"I've never even been inside a hockey rink," I said, realizing that I had no clue about this most basic and important part of his life.

"I'll show you around," he responded. "It's a nice rink, but not that big of a deal."

He was wrong; this was a big deal. I could feel it—I just wasn't sure how or why.

* * *

**Is Bella the only one getting frustrated?**

_**Just friggin' kiss me, dammit!**_


	10. Chapter 10: Give And Go

**Stephenie Meyer, you know, owns Twilight. Whatever is left here is mine.**

**Thanks to my betas Sarahsumbrella and silentnc who helped immensely with this chapter.**

**The reviews and comments have been absolutely wonderful -thank you!**

* * *

**CHAPTER 10: Give And Go**

As he drove I asked him questions about the game of hockey. I wanted to supplement the very basic knowledge I'd picked up from the internet, movies, and books I had gathered. I wanted to learn everything about him that I could. I was greedy for any scrap of information and insight that he could give me. I could see the excitement and animation in his face and gestures as he talked, and in the way he kept sneaking glances at me, just as I was doing to him. The attraction between us seemed to spark and sizzle in the confines of the car, and I knew it wasn't just my imagination or wishful thinking. I was kind of surprised that I was completely comfortable with the feeling, the anticipation, and a little excited. He fascinated and intrigued me, and the more I got to know him, the more I realized it wasn't just his pretty face or amazing body. He was fun, complex, and smart. I was completely enthralled.

He told me a little bit about growing up with his talented and clever older brother, and I could hear the respect and love he had for him. It made me slightly regretful; I'd grown up pretty much alone, and not just because I didn't have siblings. He was so observant – he could hear the wistfulness in my voice when I asked more about his family. Either that or he was paying closer attention to me than I thought. His hand moved to hover over my knee before he drew it back, and I watched the motion with a little regret. He'd started to make a couple of gestures like that during our ride to the arena – as if his desire to touch me was instinctual, unconscious — before he thought better of it. I didn't know how to tell him I wanted him to touch me. I was beginning to crave it.

We pulled into the large parking lot surrounding the ice arena. I opened my door and got out before he could come around to do it himself. I appreciated his gentlemanly gestures, but I didn't see the need to sit and wait for him to open my door every time we stopped. I met him at the hood, and he frowned slightly at me. I grinned in return and then looked around curiously, surprised to see quite a number of cars there. I asked Edward about it as we headed toward the front entrance.

"There are a lot of leagues that play and practice, we all try to get ice time when we can. There are usually people here from about four in the morning until eleven at night during the week, later on the weekends."

"Really?" I was surprised.

"Yeah." He pulled the heavy glass door open for me, and I went inside. "It's the only ice rink for miles. The next closest is in Port Angeles." Port Angeles was over an hour away. "There are a lot of us that play hockey, and the figure skaters use it to practice and for competition as well. Then there are the open skate periods…" He shrugged. "It gets a lot of use." He came up behind me and once again placed his hand on my lower back. He wasn't actually putting his arm around me, but he was touching me and it felt possessive just the same.

I looked at the lobby as we entered. It appeared pretty typical. The floor was a soft but firm black foam-type material. We went through another set of doors that opened into a wide, curved hallway with a cement floor and a larger concession stand to our left. Edward steered me toward a large, bright opening, and we stepped out into the arena where seating surrounded the rectangular ice rink. It consisted of aluminum bleacher-style seating on the long sides, and wooden chairs whose seats flipped up around the shorter ends. There were a number of large, very burly looking men skating around the ice. I realized they looked so big due to the fact they were in uniform and pads. I wondered what Edward looked like in his. Taller and bigger and broader…oh my.

He walked up to the ice, which was separated from the seats by a half-wall. A Plexiglas shield topped the wall around the shorter ends of the rink. There were benches where the opposing teams sat on either long side. Edward paused, his hand still on my lower back. His fingers lightly stroked across the fabric of my jacket, but I felt it as though it was my bare skin. I suppressed a shiver as he guided me toward the seats behind one of the team benches.

He sat next to me. "Are you okay? You're not too cold?" he asked as he rubbed my shoulder.

I considered lying just to make him keep touching me, but I didn't want him to think I was uncomfortable in any way. It was a little cool, but actually much warmer than I thought it would be so close to that much ice. I looked up and saw huge heaters attached to the ceiling over the seats, providing the comfortable temperature.

"I'm good," I told him. "What exactly are we doing here?"

"I always come the night before one of my games to think, to kind of visit the scene of the crime before the fact." He shrugged self-consciously. "Concentrate for a bit on the upcoming game. I try to think of all the things I need to do and go over strategy one more time by myself, and make sure I don't forget anything."

It seemed like a lot of responsibility and pressure. I guess I had seen it as just some sort of backyard game and boys having fun – it was kind of how I had viewed all sports when I had bothered to think about them at all. I had never realized the work, effort, and discipline that went into organized sports. I suddenly realized what he had said, that he needed to think and usually came to the rink by himself.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Edward. I don't want to intrude or anything if you want to be alone."

"Stop apologizing," he said softly, his eyes on mine. A faint wash of red stained his cheekbones, and I didn't think it was from the cold. "I didn't want to take you home. I need to do this – I know it seems a little obsessive – but I wasn't ready for you to go just yet."

I thrilled to his words and felt a wide smile break out over my face. "I didn't want to go home, either."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Good." He reached over and squeezed my fingers. "I'm sorry if you're bored."

"Stop apologizing." I threw his words back at him, and he grinned. "I'm fine. You go ahead and do what you need to do."

"I'll try. You're kind of a big distraction, but in a good way." It was on the tip of my tongue to apologize again, but he raised his brow warningly as if he could read my mind. I managed to keep silent, and he turned to face the ice.

He leaned forward in the seat, his elbows on his thighs and his hands clasped between his spread knees. I watched him curiously for a few seconds, surprised and thrilled he was letting me share such an intimate, almost vulnerable, moment. I turned my attention to the action in front of us before he noticed me staring at him and I made him nervous. There were a lot of smacks, thwacks, and grunts, and the occasional sound of bodies crashing together at high speed. I winced, realizing strings of profanities and good-natured ribbing also flew across the ice. I didn't understand any of it, but it was totally fascinating.

We sat in silence for a while. I was content to let him do whatever he needed to do and just sit with him – I could tell he was deep in concentration. He didn't seem uncomfortable, just focused, so I amused myself by trying to figure out how the men on the ice could keep track of the puck. I had an overview sitting up in the seats and still couldn't follow it. I was so caught up in watching them tear up and down the ice following the hard black rubber disc that I unconsciously jumped in my seat and gave a small cheer when I saw it go in the net. Edward turned his head to me with a smile, and I grinned back at him.

"Did you see that?" I asked. "It went right in! I saw it!"

"Yeah," he returned my grin and shook his head. "It's called a goal," he said, the smartass. "I'll make a hockey fan of you yet."

"I didn't mean to bother you," I told him when he didn't say anything else, just sat there smiling at me.

He laughed and shook his head again. "You aren't bothering me, Bella. I asked you to come with me, remember? I'm glad you did."

"Yeah," I said softly. "So, who's playing?" I nodded toward the ice.

"This is a scrimmage – practice — for the adult league," he explained. "They're here every Friday night unless the high school has a scheduled game. We mostly play on Friday nights. Our home opener is on Saturday, tomorrow, because of the rink schedule."

"Hey, Edward." One of the players skated up to the wall and leaned against it, looking up at us. "How's it going?"

"Hey, Demetri. I'm hanging in there."

"Game tomorrow?"

"Yeah." Edward stood and touched my elbow, making sure I was with him. He walked down to the front row to shake the man's hand. "I'm just communing with the Hockey Gods."

Demetri smirked and clapped him on the back. "You suiting up? Gonna play with us tonight? I could use you, man."

"Nah." Edward's eyes sparkled with satisfaction as he turned to me. "Demetri, this is Bella. Bella, this is Demetri."

"Hello, Bella." Demetri pushed his helmet up off his face and shook off the huge glove he wore. He gently took my hand in his large one. I couldn't quite place his accent.

"Hi," I said shyly in return, smiling at him. He stared at me in a curious but friendly way.

"It's nice to meet you. I've never seen Edward bring a girl to the ice before. Guess I can see now why he's not joining us tonight."

Of course I blushed, and Demetri laughed. Edward took pity on me. "He's just trying to give me a hard time, Bella. Ignore him."

"Has she ever seen you skate before, kid?" Demetri asked, slipping his glove back on his hand and punching his fist into it.

"Tomorrow's our first school game."

Demetri looked from Edward's face to mine. "So? I take that as a no?" He shook his head. "You don't know what you're missing, Bella. He's a talented son-of-a-bitch."

"Demetri..." Edward growled warningly, his cheeks flushed.

"Sorry," Demetri apologized with an unrepentant grin. He looked at Edward and raised his brows. "But it's true. You know you're welcome anytime, Cullen. I can always use you on the ice."

Edward gave him a punch to the shoulder. "Maybe next week. We've got to get going."

"It was nice to meet you, Edward's Bella," Demetri called as we walked away. "Come back anytime."

"Thank you, Demetri. It was nice meeting you, too." I threw a grin over my shoulder as Edward led me away.

Demetri laughed as we walked out the door.

I was smiling but thoughtful as we walked back to his car. Edward was quiet as we approached, hitting the unlock button on the key fob. I put my hand on his arm before he could open the door, stopping him. He turned to me with a questioning look.

"Demetri said…how come you've never brought anyone with you before?"

He crossed his arms over his chest and met my gaze in the dim illumination thrown by the parking lot lights. It was a rare dry night in Forks, but a little cold. I slid the zipper of my jacket up a bit higher, giving my hands something to do. He still didn't say anything, and I leaned back against the Volvo, putting my hands behind my hips to still them and use them as a cushion.

"Well," he said slowly, a smile spreading across his features as he took in my increasing nervousness. "I've never really wanted to, until now."

"Oh." I stared down at the ground and worried my lower lip with my teeth as I digested this. I looked up sharply as he moved a step closer to me. "I was wondering…"

"Yes, Bella?" He took another step. He was standing directly in front of me.

"I was wondering about something you said a while back." My eyes focused on the opening of his leather jacket.

"Okay…" he said encouragingly.

"You said…" I took a deep breath and forced the words out bravely. "You said you'd seen me before, at school, and that I'd avoided you. I didn't understand what you meant."

He reached out and ran his hand along the lapel of my jacket, staring at the motion with a thoughtful expression. "Hmm." His mouth twisted, and my stomach jumped.

He met my eyes, smiling that half-smile, but this time it was self-deprecating instead of cocky. "I'd seen you at school, noticed you, mostly hanging out with Angela. I found out your name and asked Ben about you."

I stared at him in utter shock, my mouth hanging open. "When was this?" I managed to gasp.

"Last year?" He shrugged, his fingers still playing with my jacket.

"Why?" I asked, my mind spinning. How could this be? How did I not notice? Was I the stupidest person on earth, or was this some kind of sick joke? And why the _hell_ hadn't Ben said anything?

His hand moved to touch my hair. "Because I thought your hair was pretty. You have beautiful skin. It glows." His knuckles brushed my cheek. "Because you're quiet, but your eyes…your eyes show so much more."

"Guh?" I was melting. I was numb. Was I dreaming?

"I tried to talk to you a couple of times." He shrugged with one shoulder, and I could sense the nervous tension in his body. He wouldn't meet my eyes and his fingers went back to fidgeting with the zipper on my jacket. "I tried to approach you in the hall, or at lunch. At the one football game you went to last year. Each time you either looked away and ignored me completely, or just walked away without even acknowledging my presence. I figured you had no interest in a jock, you know, and that you didn't want to waste your time with what you thought I was."

Okay, I _was_ the stupidest person on earth. "I – I didn't realize…"

He shrugged again, looking down, and I realized he really thought I'd been blowing him off, that he had believed I wanted nothing to do with him because he was a jock. I couldn't completely understand how that could be, but I only wanted to make him feel better, to clarify the misunderstanding. I put my hand on him, where his jacket opened about halfway up his chest. I could feel the heat of him through his shirt.

"Edward, I don't remember any of that." I looked earnestly into his eyes, trying to meet his gaze. "Trust me — if I thought you wanted to talk to me, I would have been all over you. If I didn't look at you or walked away, it was because I didn't want to embarrass myself."

He frowned. "Now I don't understand."

I sighed, finally placing my hand on his cheek, touching the line of his jaw like I had wanted to do for years. "I never in a million years imagined you, Edward Cullen, would want to talk to me. If it seemed like I was ignoring you, well, it was because I was embarrassed for anyone to see that I watched you all the time, that I thought you were…wonderful. I felt like an idiot. I didn't want you to know I was just like those other stupid girls, following you around like a brainless groupie."

"Brainless groupie?"

I dropped my hand, my cheeks turning red. I hoped it was dark enough he didn't notice. "You know what I mean."

"No one in their right mind would mistake you for a brainless anything, Miss Swan. And I'm usually in my right mind, although you have an alarming tendency to make me crazy."

"I do?"

"Yeah." He sighed, taking a deliberate step into me. My legs widened their stance involuntarily, until he was practically pressing against me. "I never know what to expect with you."

"But that's a good thing, right?" I asked breathlessly. He was just so close, so warm, so big. It was all I could think about.

"It is." He tipped his head down to me, our faces only inches apart. "It appears we've wasted a lot of valuable time."

I felt the steel of the car behind me and the hardness of him in front of me. "Let's not waste anymore, then," I said. The boldness of my words was contradicted by the tremor in my voice. God, I wanted him to kiss me!

I heard as well as felt his sudden intake of breath. We stared at each other, and I fought the urge to blink. _Hurry up this time!_ I thought desperately. He closed the distance between us until I felt his nose brush against mine. My entire body ached in anticipation – he was killing me here – and I could taste his warm breath…just before he pulled away with a violent jerk.

What. The. _Hell!_

He stared at me with narrowed eyes from a couple of feet away, and I finally heard what had startled him – loud voices approaching us. He was breathing heavily and glanced up as a group of men came into view, walking toward their vehicles. He reached behind me, opening the passenger side door of the Volvo and holding it open. I slid quickly inside, glad that I didn't go sprawling on the ground. My legs were weak with disappointment. The light flashed on in the car as he got in behind the wheel and then shut the door, turning to me with a chuckle.

"I'm never going to try to kiss you in a parking lot again. It's too hard on my…ego."

I groaned, twisting in my seat to face him. He'd better try to kiss me somewhere…and soon. My lips tingled with the desire to feel his mouth on mine. There was a strange vibration running through my body. He imitated my posture, making no move to start the car.

"So." This time his little half-smile was definitely cocky, no doubt about it. "You think I'm wonderful."

I raised a brow in return, despite the blush I knew was rising in my cheeks. "You like my hair."

"Mmm," he hummed, reaching out to touch a thick strand where it spilled over my shoulder. "And your skin." His fingers brushed my neck, and I couldn't suppress a small shiver. "And your eyes, don't forget those."

We smiled sheepishly at each other. Never breaking eye contact we slowly, unconsciously leaned in over the console toward one another. A horn chirped and lights flashed on the car that was parked facing us as it was unlocked by a remote. We both jumped back like we'd been tasered.

"Are you fucking _kidding_ me?" he shouted, glaring out of the windshield. A couple of the men that had interrupted us moments ago got in the vehicle. It backed up and drove away.

His hands gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. I was breathing heavily, both from the anticipation of his kiss and being surprised yet again. I started giggling — I couldn't help myself. He took a deep breath and looked at me, smiling ruefully.

"This is a cockblock of cosmic proportions." He winced. "Sorry."

"No, you're right." I pressed my hand to my mouth to stifle my laughter.

Shaking his head, he laughed with me. He glanced at the clock and sighed. It was almost midnight.

"I guess I'd better get you home." He shook his head again, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. "You're coming to the game tomorrow, right?" he asked as we drove down the familiar streets to my house. "Crowley's having a party afterward. We're all going."

"Yep. Alice and Jasper are going to pick me up before the game. We'll be there."

He nodded. "Good."

"I've never been to one," I admitted, forcing myself to look out the window at the passing scenery instead of staring at his pretty face.

"You've never been to a party?" he asked, shocked.

I laughed, turning back to him. "No, I've been to a party before, just not an after-hockey-game party."

"Oh, yeah. That I do know," he said. "I would have noticed. I'm glad you're coming to this one."

I just loved when he said stuff like that – it made me feel so much better about my obsessive tendencies toward him. He pulled into my driveway, putting the Volvo in park and switching off the ignition. I looked at him in question as he reached out and squeezed my fingers, staring down at them. After a moment he raised his eyes to mine with a smile.

"I really had a good time tonight, Bella. I'm glad you came."

"I'm glad you asked." I returned his smile. "Thank you for the ice cream."

"You're welcome." His eye studied my face. "I'd really like to kiss you," he admitted softly and then chuckled, shaking his head. "But there's no way I'm going to try that again tonight, especially here."

"Why not?" I asked, befuddled. _Just friggin' kiss me, dammit!_

"Because your dad has a gun, and after tonight…I don't think I should take any chances." His gaze didn't leave mine as he tipped his head toward the house. "Besides, we're being observed right now."

My head snapped around to see a curtain twitch in the front window. Damn Charlie for spying on us.

"It's okay," he sighed, getting out of the car.

"No it isn't," I grumbled under my breath as he came around to open my door. "You don't have to walk me to the door."

He frowned. "Of course I do, Bella. Don't be silly."

I shrugged, and he was close by my side as we walked up the porch stairs.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said as we paused outside the front door. His eyes flickered to the window as he leaned down to press his lips briefly to my forehead. "Good night, Bella."

"Good night," I murmured as he walked slowly down the steps and back to the Volvo.

With a wistful sigh I touched my fingertips to the spot on my forehead where his mouth had pressed briefly before turning to step into the house.

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**Put the pitchforks down - if you kill me, you'll miss Bella's first hockey game next chapter...**

**I barely contained the urge to launch myself over the plexiglass and lick him dry like some perverted momma cat.**


	11. Chapter 11: Power Play

**Stephenie Meyer, not me.**

**My betas silentnc and Sarahsumbrella - once again, thank you for your expertise.**

**The lovely ladies at Twi-Fic Promotions rec'd and reviewed Major Misconduct this week - go check it out! They have some really great lesser known fics on their site http:/www(dot)twi-ficpromotions(dot)blogspot(dot)com**

**And thanks to Katmom for your rec on the Forums - a couple of folks mentioned you sent them this way. Katmom writes Guarding Edward...Pianoward...le sigh...**

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**CHAPTER 11: Power Play**

"You did what?" Alice yelped, and I jerked my ear away from the phone.

"I went out on a date with Edward last night," I repeated patiently, cringing.

"How could you not tell me?" Yep, she was mad. "Bella Swan, how could you keep something that big to yourself?"

There was no way was I going to let her know I'd already told Angela. "He just asked me out in Biology yesterday. There was, like, no time."

"There's always time for something like that," she growled.

"Yeah, well, I was really nervous and I didn't know what to say, and I didn't have much time to get ready." I stopped. No point in going there. She'd just get all worked up about where we went and what we did, how he looked and every last detail of what he said…I shuddered. "Besides, you had plans with Jazz, and I knew you'd want to run right over here, and I didn't want to mess with your guys' evening…"

I was babbling. She was dangerously silent.

"I'm sorry, Alice." There was nothing left to do but grovel. "Really. Seriously. I was just so nervous and excited. I couldn't deal with talking to anyone."

"Hmpf." She was still pissed, but getting over it.

"You didn't tell me about Jasper right away, either," I pointed out, and she sighed. _Yes!_ I had her.

"So, where did you go?"

"To the Diner. We got one of their ice cream sundaes. Um, the brownie one. We were there forever, just talking." I didn't feel right telling her about our trip to the ice arena. That seemed private somehow.

"Acceptable Friday night date," she decided. "Did he kiss you?"

"Well," I said slowly. "No, not really."

"Not really? Bella, what the hell does that mean? How can someone, especially Edward Cullen, 'not really' kiss you?"

"He tried a couple of times," I admitted.

There was confused silence. "What do you mean 'tried'? Bella, I swear to God, what did you do?"

"Hey!" I protested. "It wasn't my fault! I wanted to jump his ass the minute he walked up to the door."

"So what happened?"

I snorted, shutting my eyes. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Her voice was disbelieving. ""Bella Swan, you better tell me what happened _right_ _now_ or so help me…"

"That's just it – nothing happened. Well, we tried, a couple of times, but…nothing."

"What do you mean, nothing?" She sounded worried. "You tried, but he…couldn't? Couldn't kiss you, or couldn't…_kiss_?"

"No! _No!_" I giggled at the horror in her voice, and she sighed in relief.

"Well, thank God for that," she laughed. "I can take the knife away from my wrists. If you told me someone like Edward Cullen couldn't kiss…that would just destroy my faith in mankind."

"Alice, I don't know if he can kiss or not. He didn't kiss me."

"I'm totally confused," she said. Yeah, well, join the club.

"He tried to—in the parking lot of the diner, but someone pulled in right next to us just as…he leaned over me." I squeezed my eyes closed in frustration as I remembered how close his mouth had been to mine. "And then…um, later…he was so close, but a group of guys walked by and kind of interrupted. Again in the Volvo, but they got in their car and shot the headlights right in our faces. They must've gotten a pretty good laugh. He didn't even bother to try when he dropped me back off at home—Charlie was looking out the window. I'll be shocked if he has the guts to even come near me again," I concluded glumly.

"Wow," Alice breathed. "That really sucks."

"I know." I slumped against my bed. "I thought I was seriously going to burst into flames. Alice, God, he smelled so good, and he's just…perfect."

She laughed. "Well, maybe you'll get another chance tonight."

I groaned, covering my eyes. "I don't think I can stand it. I'll either curl into a fetal position, crying and moaning, or start humping his leg the minute I see him."

"Interesting visual," she said thoughtfully, and I laughed. "I think it's very promising. He kept trying at least. It's just your amazingly bad luck rearing its ugly head."

"Great. Thanks."

"Hey, at least he wanted to kiss you, right? Did he ask you out again?"

"No, not really," I said slowly. "But he did say he'd see me tonight. He said he was glad I was going to his game and the party afterward."

"That's good," she assured me. "Jasper and I will be there to pick you up about five. I wouldn't worry about it too much, sweetie. I don't think Edward Cullen is the type of guy to let anything stand in the way of something he wants for very long."

"I hope not," I murmured fervently. I hoped he wanted me. I felt like I'd explode out of my skin if I didn't get to feel that mouth on mine and soon. Not when I knew there was a pretty good chance he was willing. "See you at five."

Charlie was working weekends, swing shift, and wouldn't be home until after I left for the game. I spent the day cleaning my room and the bathroom and finishing up some homework. Finally it was close to five o'clock. I went upstairs to change out of my comfy sweats and into jeans and a warm pullover. I dug my boots out of the back of the closet, laced them up, and pounded down the stairs.

A few minutes later I heard a car crunching on the gravel of the driveway and tossed my jacket over my shoulders. Jasper and Alice were here. I opened the door and stopped on the step, surprised to see Edward's Volvo idling in the driveway. I glanced back over my shoulder at the clock with a frown and saw it was a little after five. He should be at the arena getting ready…my stomach dropped. Was something wrong?

"You gonna stand there all day?" Alice leaned out of the passenger side window and grinned. "C'mon, Bella, or we'll miss warm-ups."

I closed the door, making sure it was locked behind me, and jogged to the car. I got in the backseat, and Jasper grinned at me from behind the wheel. "Edward let you drive his Volvo?" I asked. "Or did you steal it to mess with his mind?"

Jasper laughed. "No, he's the designated driver tonight. We won't all fit in the Porsche anyway, or your truck. My car's not running right now, and probably won't be until Rose gets home." Jasper had an old Shelby Mustang that his sister was constantly helping him restore. "I dropped him off at the arena a while ago."

"Okay," Alice said, all business. "I'll give you some of the finer points of the game." I hid a smile. "There are five guys out on the ice plus a goaler."

"Goalie," Jasper corrected, keeping his eyes on the road as he drove.

"Goalie. Right. Anyway, the other positions are center, forward, and defensors."

"Defenseman," Jasper said.

"Yeah. That's what Edward plays. The game starts when they do a face-off, and then they try to shoot the puck-thingy in each other's goal – in the net. You don't want to get called for icing – like on a cake – because then they blow the whistle and have to stop playing." I saw Jasper grimace at the cake reference. "And if they do something they're not supposed to, like whacking each other in the head with their sticks, they get a penalty and get sent to the sinners box."

"Sin bin. Penalty box," Jasper muttered.

She gave him a look. "They call their jerseys sweaters because that's what they used to wear back in the day. And they have pads and all that, too, and wear stockings."

Jasper winced. "Socks, Alice. They're called hockey socks, not stockings, for Christ's sake."

"Are you telling this or am I?" she demanded, glaring at him.

"Darlin', I love you, but you suck."

"What!" she demanded, outraged.

"'Puck-thingy'?" he quoted, making a face. "Alice, if she wants to learn, don't you think she should hear it from someone who used to actually play the game?"

"Oh, someone like you? Jasper Whitlock, you are an ass." She folded her arms and sank deep into the leather seat. "Don't you tell me I suck, at anything, ever again. That's just rude."

"Sorry." He gave her his killer grin and patted her leg. "You're right, that was rude." She looked a little mollified. "But I'll sit next to Bella in case she has any questions."

We pulled into the rapidly filling parking lot. "Are there usually a lot of people at the games?" I asked.

"Yeah, pretty much," Jasper answered as we walked toward the building. "We made it to the state finals last year. It's a good team."

The three of us went inside, making our way to seats about halfway down one side of the rink. Jasper picked out ones with premium views a few rows from the ice. I looked around for Angela and saw her over by where the band took up a large section of seating. I waved, and she motioned that she would be with us in a bit. As we settled in there was cheering from the people around us, and I saw that our team had come out on the ice. My eyes found Edward instantly. His uniform had an _A_ on his left shoulder for alternate captain and "CULLEN" in big white letters across the back of his blue jersey just above the number _20_. He had his helmet on, obscuring his face, but I could see the intense green of his eyes as he circled leisurely around the rink, doing stretches and talking to his teammates. He skated past where we were sitting, looking up and into my eyes for a brief second before he turned to address a teammate who called to him.

A thrill shivered through me. He looked amazing in his uniform and equipment – larger than life. I thought I'd been somewhat prepared, but my response was just so…visceral. He was so different like this – focused, concentrated, and beautiful in his agility and power. I never expected this reaction to seeing him in his element and so far out of mine. I was fascinated, and so turned on it was almost painful just watching him. How could he skate like that and make it look easier than walking? How could he maintain that absolute grace while doing everything else the game required at the same time? Someone threw him a puck, and he tossed it in front of him as he wove between the players on the ice. He did some impossibly intricate maneuver with his feet, it was like dancing but much quicker, and flipped the puck around on the blade of his stick as if he was doing a magic trick. The dexterity and concentration amazed me.

I watched as each guy on the ice took a turn skating with a puck to the blue line and shooting it at the net. Some the goalie deflected and some he didn't. The movies I'd watched and what I'd read did not prepare me for the real thing — the force and power each player put into their shot. I shook my head. If I tried anything like that in skates not only would I whiff the puck, but I'd probably do a back flip with a 3.3 level of difficulty and end up giving myself a concussion. The crowd booed as the opposing team came out onto the ice, and each group circled one half of the rink, completing their warm up and preparation for the game. After a few minutes they all skated off and back into the locker rooms while a Zamboni came out to smooth the ice.

Jasper took the time to explain a little more of the game to me. His voice was drowned out as the crowd jumped to their feet and cheered as the teams came back out on the ice. The players all did a couple of laps around the rink, and then each team lined up on the blue lines at either end. They took their helmets off as a scratchy rendition of the _Star Spangled Banner_ came over the loud speaker. Everyone in the stands stood.

It may have been unpatriotic, but I looked at him instead of the flag. He had an intense expression of concentration on his face and appeared calm and composed on the surface, although I could see the tell-tale tensing of muscle along his jaw. When the anthem was over, he shoved the plastic guard into his mouth and jammed the helmet back on his head, slapping hands with the teammates that remained on the ice. The goalie swung his stick against the posts of the net on either side of him as the rest of his teammates took their positions in the middle of the ice.

There was a sharp whistle, and one of the referees threw the puck down between two players crouched over a circle in the center of the rink. It was quick, it was fast, it was brutal, and it was awesome. It was an entirely different side of Edward, one I had never seen or imagined. He was merciless, seemingly everywhere at once. He was poking at the puck and other players with his stick, slamming bodily into some and moving with incredible speed and accuracy. I remembered Alice telling me he played defense as he charged along the boards, pushing the puck though the other team's front line. One of the opposing players intercepted it, and I watched, open-mouthed as Edward twisted like he was on a pivot, suddenly skating backward with almost the same velocity as he'd had charging forward. He slapped and poked at the puck as he continued to defend his zone. It was really an incredible display of control, style, and athleticism, quite beautiful to watch. I was breathless.

He skated off the ice to take a break, hurtling the waist-high wall with an ease that defied the weight of his equipment and the fact he was on razor thin blades on ice. I was disappointed that I would be denied watching him for even those few minutes and released the breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. He grabbed a water bottle, pushing his helmet up onto his forehead and squirting a stream of liquid into his mouth. Leaning over the boards, he pounded his fist against the side, yelling at his teammates in encouragement. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jasper grinning at me, and I turned to him.

"Holy wow," I marveled.

"Yeah, right?" Jasper smirked.

"I didn't realize how…wow, he's really good, huh?"

"He is," Jasper agreed.

As I turned back to the game, I was excited to see Edward launch himself back onto the ice. It was such a thrill to watch him play. I stood up with everyone else in the stands as the puck was maneuvered into the opposing team's end. It was passed back and forth rapidly, almost dizzying to try to follow. I saw Edward hanging back in his defensive position, and then saw the puck as it whizzed across the ice to hit the blade of his stick with a solid _thunk_. He planted his feet, bringing his stick back and slapping the puck in a smooth arc. The next thing I knew a siren and flashing lights went off over the net, and Jasper was yelling and hugging me. Angela and Alice were jumping up and down and clapping their hands, Alice waving her fist over her head and whooping.

"It went in? It went in, right?" I asked, jumping and hugging Jasper right back.

"You betcha! Slapshot from the blue line!" He gave me a high five and we watched as Edward's teammates all skated to him and slapped him on the back and head. I could see the gleam of his smile through the mask on his helmet.

"Way to go Twenty!" Alice bellowed, her hands around her mouth, and we cracked up laughing.

Edward's team ended up winning the game 4 – 2. The teams filed off the ice after lining up and shaking hands. Angela went to find Ben, saying she would meet us in the lobby. I looked across the ice to see Edward at the bench, leaning on his stick and talking to the coach and a couple other players. He lifted his gloved hand to them as they left for the locker room and skated over to us.

He came to a stop, leaning back on his skates and spraying an impressive plume of ice in front of him. Removing his mouth piece, he stuck it on the outside of his mask before taking off his helmet. It goes to the great inequality in the universe that men look sexy when soaked with sweat and women just look, well…sweaty. His rusty hair was dark and wet, clinging in pieces to his forehead and neck. I barely contained the urge to launch myself over the Plexiglas and lick him dry like some perverted momma cat. His cheeks were red from his exertions and he was breathing heavily. Sweat beaded on his brow and chin. I instantly thought "sex face" and then slapped myself. Literally. Alice gave me a strange look that turned to a knowing grin in an instant. _Shit_.

Jasper leaned over the top of the boards and did some sort of weird and intricate handshake with Edward's glove. "Way hot game, my friend. So hot I just may have to do your ass after we're done here."

Edward grinned, shaking his head. "Fuck off." He smiled at Alice and then faced me, his expression turning more serious. That crooked smile almost sent me to my knees. And hey, sailor, as long as I'm down there…

"Bella," he said in greeting. _Focus_, I frantically chastised myself. His smile twitched, and I panicked. He couldn't read minds, could he?

"Um, hi. Good game." I couldn't help smiling back at him. He looked so fucking hot in his hockey uniform, all sweaty and exerted, big, bulky, and masculine. I could barely control myself. _Get a hold of yourself, Swan._ My eyes ate him up, committing the sight of him to memory so I could linger over it later.

Jasper snorted. "Good game? My man here scored himself a goal and had two assists. I'd say that's better than pretty good."

I smiled uncertainly. "Go team?" I offered weakly.

Edward threw his head back and laughed, while Jasper hung his head and groaned. "I'll see you in a few. Wait for me," Edward said, his gaze never leaving mine.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from his as he pushed easily off of the boards and skated slowly backward toward the player's bench. I felt my insides flutter as that crooked smile curled his mouth again. When he got halfway across the ice he added an exaggerated twist to his hips to keep his steady momentum. It was smooth and strong, skilled and agile. It was pure sex. I wet my pants—in a good way. He paused as he stepped through the swinging door in the boards to head to the locker room, sweeping his tongue across his full lower lip before sinking his teeth into it. I'm not sure if it was deliberate or not, but I whimpered as I frantically tried to remember which bra and panties I had on and if they matched. When he was out of sight I staggered back, realizing I had been clutching the railing so hard my fingers hurt. Alice cleared her throat, and my head snapped around to face her and Jasper. I'd forgotten they were there. She had a huge shit-eating grin on her face, and Jasper was trying really hard not to laugh. _Uh-oh._

"Bella's going to get la-aid, Bella's going to get la-aid," Alice sang. I blushed a fiery, blazing red. "Holy crap, Swan, that was almost hotter than the porno Jazz and I watched last night. The boy is dead sexy."

"Hey!" Jasper protested. Alice laid her hand on his cheek, giving him a wink and a pat.

We met Edward in the front lobby a little while later as he came out of the corridor that led to the lockers. He was dressed in jeans and a pullover under his hockey jacket, his hair still dripping from his shower. An enormous bag that probably weighed more than I did was slung over one of his broad shoulders. I gulped as he stopped in front of me, hip shot, scruffy, and—Alice was right—dead sexy.

"Congratulations," I said.

He grinned. "Thanks. So, what did you think of your first hockey game?"

"It was…great. You were incredible."

He shrugged, the bag still slung over his shoulder, and the rest of our group came up to congratulate him, too. "So, we all off to Crowley's party?" he asked.

"We'll follow you guys there," Angela said. We trailed her and Ben to the parking lot.

"So," Edward murmured into my ear. "Incredible, huh?"

I gave him a soft punch in the arm, but it still hurt my hand. "What? Are you looking for compliments?"

"Well, yeah."

I laughed. "I was impressed. Really." I shook my head. "You make it look so easy."

The four of us got in his car. Jasper tugged Alice into the back seat with him. Edward smiled a cocky grin at me, sweeping open the passenger side door. He was so damn smug I should have thought he was a conceited jerk, but it really turned me on. What can I say — I have a thing for arrogant men. Can't blame them when there's just cause.

He pulled the car out into the street and swung his head to check behind him. Drops of water from his shower-wet hair splattered across the shoulders of his jacket and onto the headrest of the driver's seat. "Edward!" Alice protested. "Really, couldn't you take the time to use a hairdryer?"

Both he and Jasper started laughing, and Alice and I just shook out heads at each other. Men. Edward rolled down his window and stuck his head out into the wind. We were going about forty-five miles an hour as he shoved a hand into his hair and rubbed it briskly. Water sprayed and splattered everywhere, whipping back into the car from the slipstream. Jasper got the worst of it in the backseat and started swearing, reaching forward to grab Edward's head and slap him around. Edward was hooting with laughter and dodging to avoid Jasper's blows, but the car barely swerved.

"Jackass!" Jasper protested.

Edward was gasping with mirth. "Looks about the same, either way."

He turned to me, his face glowing with amusement and from the chilly air. His hair stuck out everywhere in a wild bronze halo. Sex head, I thought. I went to slap myself again, but caught my hand just in time, biting down hard on my finger instead. His eyes focused on my mouth and his expression changed, his eyes going smoky and intense, the car quiet. After a few seconds, Jasper snorted.

"Do you want me to drive so you two can have the back seat?" he asked sarcastically. "Honestly, Edward, cut that shit out, we don't need to see it." He made exaggerated gagging noises.

"You're just jealous, Whitlock," Edward responded. His concentration went back to driving, but his hand slipped over the center console and took my hand from my lap, weaving my fingers with his.

"Yeah, you never look at me like that," Jasper teased with a grumble, and then it was quiet.

I looked at our hands lying on my leg, twined together. His were still cold, but I could warm him. He squeezed gently and smiled, eyes still on the road, and happiness burst over me.

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**Thanks for all of the great comments and reviews. You've been awesome so I'll tell you now - there will finally be some smooching next chapter! Bella, you lucky girl!**

**I didn't have a whole lot to go by, but I figured that he was about the best kisser in the world.**


	12. Chapter 12: Save

**Stephenie Meyer owns the original characters. I'm just messing around.**

**Sarahsumbrella and silentnc correct me when I'm wrong and make wonderful suggestions - really wonderful suggestions. Thanks!**

**bgwillis started a thread on the Twilighted Forums for this story - thank you! Everyone come visit - link is on my profile page. **

**I'm kind of having fun on Twitter - still think I'm making a fool of myself, but - eh, who cares?**

**Shutting up now - hope you like!**

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**CHAPTER 12: Save**

We stopped at Subway on the way to Tyler Crowley's house party. Edward hadn't eaten, and his after-game appetite was making itself known. He bought us all foot-long subs, eating his and the other half of mine, and then wrestling Jasper for the other half of Alice's.

"Just go get another one, man," Jasper grunted, slapping at his hands and stuffing the sandwich in his mouth as fast as he could. Edward looked at the counter longingly, and I laughed.

"Go ahead if you're still hungry," I encouraged him. "It's better than making Jasper aspirate bread and meat."

He jumped up and went back to the register, coming back with another foot-long sandwich and four chocolate chip cookies to feed that sweet tooth of his. I shook my head as he ate the sandwich down in quick bites as we walked back out to the Volvo, and then started on the cookies. I'd never seen anyone eat as much as he did.

"You must have an incredible metabolism." I shook my head as he tossed the wrapper in the garbage can on the sidewalk before opening the car door for me.

"It's not just my metabolism that's incredible," he teased, waggling his eyebrows.

I laughed as he rounded the car and got in behind the wheel. "Please, Cullen. Your conceit knows no bounds."

"You think I'm pretty incredible," he murmured, leaning toward me over the console between the front seats. "You said so yourself. At the rink, remember?" He ran his nose down my neck.

Just like that I was on fire. I let out a squeak as I felt his warm, moist breath on my skin. He turned his head into me, and the softness of his lips brushed below my ear. My head tipped back and a moan rose in my throat…

I heard a thump as his face smashed into my neck and I felt a slap on the back of my head. My eyes flew open and I twisted around to meet Jasper's amused face. He'd smacked both Edward and me, hard.

"Jesus, you two. Please!"

"Cut it out, Jazz," Alice said as Edward's mouth opened to protest. "I stand corrected. This is _better_ than the porno we watched last night. At least this seems to have a plot." She bounced up and down in the seat, clapping her hands. "Yay!"

"Shut up, you evil little elf," Edward growled, but his mouth twitched into a smile as he met her amused gaze in the rearview mirror.

We pulled up to Tyler's house in a neighborhood somewhere between my house and where they all lived. Edward parked on the street a few cars down from the house, popping the trunk open before we got out of the car. We waited on the sidewalk while he retrieved a brown paper bag out of the trunk. I started to ask what it was, but Alice interrupted.

"Wonder if Angela and Ben are here yet?"

Jasper nodded toward a vehicle on the other side of the street. "Isn't that his car?"

"Oh, yeah. Come on!"

We walked up to the house, and Edward opened the front door. The muffled sounds of music washed over us, along with a wave of humid heat from the crowd of bodies in an enclosed space and the faint smell of spilled beer. I wrinkled my nose and looked around, spotting Ben sitting in a chair across the room with Angela on his lap.

"Over there." I motioned to Alice, and she and Jasper followed me to where they sat. Edward nodded and said something to Jazz before heading in the other direction.

I raised my eyebrow, and Jazz mouthed "kitchen." I shrugged, figuring he was going to get a drink. We made it over to Angela, shouting to hear each other over the pounding music.

"Where were you guys?" she asked.

"Stopped to get something to eat," I answered, and she leaned forward to hear, almost spilling her beer on Ben. He made a neat save, grabbing it out of her hand as she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He took a big swallow and grinned at her, shaking his head. I looked around, recognizing a few people from school and some of Edward's teammates. There were groups of people everywhere, some talking, some drinking, and some making out on the furniture. I bent down to shout into Angela's ear.

"I'll be right back!"

She nodded, and I weaved my way around people as I headed toward the back of the house. I wished I'd brought my drink from the restaurant in with me, but I figured I could find something non-alcoholic in the kitchen. I'd never really developed a taste for beer, and I was determined to keep my wits about me tonight. If the chance to kiss Edward presented itself, I wanted to be sure to take advantage. There were enough outside forces conspiring against us – I wasn't going to let anything I actually could control interfere. Alice leaned back toward me, raising a brow as I passed.

"I'm going to find something to drink. Want anything?" I asked in her ear.

"No, thanks. I'll grab something in a minute."

I nodded and continued on my way. The kitchen was much less crowded, quieter and less stuffy. I took a deep breath and looked around. There was a line of people going out the back door onto the patio, and I figured that was where the beer was. I grabbed a plastic cup and headed for the sink to fill it with water, but saw a six-pack of ginger-ale sitting by the fridge with a couple of cans already missing. I hesitated, wondering who it belonged to and if they would get mad if I snitched one. It would be better than water—I could pass it off as beer to someone not looking closely and avoid the hassle of explaining why I was drinking water at a party. Not that I cared all that much, but it stopped a lot of unwanted attention. I was all for that.

I opened a can and poured it into my cup, hoping I could find the owner and offer to reimburse them or something. I kept my eyes open for Edward, but didn't see him. I sipped at my drink, wondering if I was brave enough to go back into the crowded room and dodge kids well on their way to being drunk and…dancing. Yikes.

My attention was drawn to two girls stumbling out of a hallway to my right, laughing and clinging to each other. The sudden burst of activity and noise caught my attention, but it was piqued when I overheard part of their conversation.

"…Cullen!" one giggled, looking back over her shoulder. She met her friend's gaze with a snort of laughter and fanned a hand in front of her face, panting exaggeratedly. "He's so fucking hot! What I wouldn't give to…" her voice faded as they walked past me into the living room.

I felt my face heating up with a blush, although I had no idea why. I stepped forward, moving slowly toward the hall and craning my neck to look around the corner. I wasn't sure what I expected to see, maybe Edward surrounded by a legion of fawning girls, but he was simply standing at the end of the hall talking to a guy I recognized as one of his teammates, holding a red plastic cup in his hand. I didn't think I'd made a sound, but he looked up at me and grinned.

"Bella!" He motioned for me to come forward and I did, shyly.

I was shocked when he put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me to his side. My face was on fire, but I glanced up at the guy he had been talking to and met a pair of friendly, very pretty violet eyes.

"Bella, this is Rick."

"Hi, Bella." Rick took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. His eyes flickered back to Edward and a knowing grin quirked his mouth. "I'll talk to you later then, Cullen."

He walked off with a wave, and I felt kind of guilty. "I'm sorry, Edward, I didn't mean to interrupt. I wasn't looking for you or anything, I just -"

"Shh." He grinned down at me. "Bella, don't worry about it. I was just coming to look for you. Are you drinking beer? Need another?"

He peered curiously into my cup, and I blushed yet again as his eyes went from my drink to his. "No, I, uh…it's…ginger ale."

He stared at me for a second with a weird look on his face. "Ginger ale?"

"Yeah. I found some in the kitchen and…borrowed one. I hope I can find whose it is so I can apologize or replace it or something. I feel kind of bad." A slow grin spread across his face, and I was embarrassed. "What? Is there something wrong with ginger ale?" I asked defensively.

"No." His grin widened and he shook his head. "Not at all."

He held out his cup, and I glanced in it, confused. I stared for a couple of seconds before realization hit. "Is that…ginger ale? The ginger ale is yours?"

"Yeah," he nodded, laughing. "That's what I got out of the trunk."

"Seriously?" That was too weird.

He gave me that lopsided smile. "Well, I'm the designated driver tonight. Plus…emergency doctor's kid." He shuddered. "Dad taught us early and well."

I motioned to my chest. "Police Chief's daughter. You have no idea."

We smiled at each other for a few seconds, and I realized we were pretty much alone in the hallway. I was leaning against the wall with him standing close in front of me. I saw the same awareness dawn in his eyes as he brought his empty hand up to place it on the wall beside my head. He shifted his weight onto one leg, bringing our bodies and faces even closer.

"Bella," he murmured softly, green eyes on mine.

"H-hu-huh?"

"We're not in a parking lot."

I gulped. "N-no."

He brought his cup to his mouth and swallowed the soda that was left. He took mine from my hand, putting it inside his and bending down to place them on the floor at our feet. As he stood back up he brushed along the length of my body, lightly, caressingly, in no way crowding me but in no way close enough. I fought a shiver as his face was once again only inches from mine. He brought his thumb up to stroke my lower lip, his eyes dark and intense as he stared at the slow motion. He moved his fingers to my chin and tilted my face up to his. His other hand came up to cup my face between them and my heart just about leapt out of my chest. _Oh God yes, please…_He shifted his body into me, his chest and hips just barely touching mine. I gasped and his mouth twitched as it lowered, his thumbs stroking my cheeks.

A raucous shout of laughter brought us back to reality as two girls burst into the hallway. Their laughter faded as they saw us standing so close together, his body hovering intimately over mine. Soft giggles replaced their loud voices as they bent their heads together and walked away.

Edward groaned, leaning into me and crushing me between his body and the wall. He hit his forehead on the spot just over my shoulder and I heard him muttering incoherent obscenities.

He pulled back suddenly, glaring determinedly into my eyes. He grabbed my arm and yanked me away from the wall.

"Come on."

"Edward…what?" I asked in confusion. He walked swiftly to the end of the hall, pushing me through a door.

He hit the light switch and I glanced around briefly, noticing we were in a small bathroom before he pressed me up against the wall with one hand and slammed the door shut with the other. I felt like I was outside my body as he dropped his chin to his chest, taking a deep breath before lifting his head.

His fierce green eyes held mine. "Bella, I swear to God, if I don't kiss you right now…"

A noise escaped me as I launched myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck, burying my hands in his hair as I yanked his head down hard. A similar sound broke from him, and his hot, wide mouth was finally on mine.

_Finally!_

Holy God in heaven.

We exploded. He picked me up and slammed me up against the wall, his lips frantic on mine, rubbing, twisting, gasping. It was just…_more_ than I had ever imagined. It felt like he was kissing my entire body, all at once – burning, searing_, more more more_. I whimpered, pressing closer to him as he lifted pressure slightly to find a better angle, never stopping the wet, sucking kiss. His hands slid down to grip my thighs, hitching my legs up to lock around his waist just before I felt the scorch of his tongue sweep across the seam of my lips. I couldn't get them open fast enough as I sucked him into my mouth, tangling and slicking my tongue across his. I was only dimly aware of the ache in my lungs and in my jaw as we devoured each other. There was nothing else in my existence other than the pleasure of his mouth on mine. His tongue filled me, his teeth scraped, and I held on and pulled him closer, taking in every bit of him that I could.

He finally eased away, gasping for air, running his mouth in soft nibbles down my throat as he apologized. "Sorry, so sorry, I didn't mean…"

"Thank God you did," I breathed fervently, tilting my head back to give him whatever access he wanted. My hands reluctantly released his hair, sliding down to stroke his amazing shoulders.

He chuckled, moving his mouth up the other side of my throat. He pulled back for a brief second to look at me, and then slowly, firmly pressed his lips to mine. He was gentle and softly sucking, learning the feel of my mouth, discovering what made me shiver. And I did shiver, tremors coursing through my body as my legs tightened around his waist, my hands pulling him toward me as they found their way back around his neck. I could feel the wave of excitement start to take over as his lips parted over mine once more, the frenzy building as I followed his tongue when it teasingly retreated. His hands slid along my jean-clad thighs until they cupped my ass, squeezing gently, and I moaned into his mouth. He pressed me into the wall, and I felt something hard right between my legs. Was that his…an…_erection_? I gasped, shocked and thrilled, drawing my head back. He was panting slightly, looking down at me with a wry smile on his wet mouth, but made no move to pull away. I moaned again, unconsciously rubbing against that long, hard ridge at his hips, and his eyes went wild. His head swooped down again, but I threw my palm against his chest, halting him, my eyes jerking toward the door next to us.

"Shh," I hissed. "Listen!"

Voices were growing steadily louder as someone approached the bathroom from the hall. His hand shot out and grabbed the doorknob a scant instant before it rattled and turned.

I met his eyes, mine wide in realization. "Not locked?" I breathed. My legs slid from around his waist and I stood unsteadily on my own, still leaning into him.

He shook his head, the muscles and sinews tensing in his forearm as he held the knob tightly in his grasp. There was a pounding on the door, another try at the handle, and then a frustrated voice fading away. We held each other and shook with laughter as he buried his face in my neck.

"I swear to God," he laughed, eyes crinkling as he straightened and finally released the doorknob, giving the lock a deliberate twist. "Trying to kiss you is quite a unique experience."

"That kiss was a unique experience," I smiled, slipping my hands down around his waist. I kind of wanted to pull him to me and feel the evidence that I could arouse him again.

His face was suddenly serious. "You're okay, right? It was a little…rough, I guess. I'm sorry about that. It was just – _ugh_. I had to."

I thrilled to his words, hugging him. He held me to his chest and tucked my head under his chin. I fit perfectly, and let out a soft sigh of contentment.

"It was a great first kiss, Edward. No worries here." I'd been kissed before, but those childish fumblings in no way compared to what Edward made me feel. I rested against him, as comfortable as I had ever been in my life. After a few minutes of enjoying his hands gently rubbing my back, I tipped my head to smile up at him. "As a matter of fact, if you wanted to try for another one, it would be all right with me."

"Yeah?" One corner of his mouth lifted in that crooked smile.

"Oh, yeah."

He smiled and brought his mouth to mine, tenderly taking first my upper lip and then my lower one with his—soft suction, gentle rub, a sweep of tongue. I melted into him, my arms and legs turning into rubbery, warm noodles from the sensations. He was patient and lingering before he finally broke away, his fingers touching my cheek.

"Wow," I breathed, my eyes fluttering open to meet his.

"Still okay?" he asked softly. The tips of his fingers brushed my wet and slightly swollen lower lip.

"Uh-huh." My gaze focused on his mouth. "Um, if you want to try the first kind again, just to compare, I wouldn't mind."

He chuckled, kissing the tip of my nose, and extricated himself from my octopus hold. I let out a whine of disappointment, and he took my hand, giving it a squeeze.

"If we're going to do that, I'd rather take this someplace a little more private. You know, someplace other than a room with a toilet in it."

I glanced around. I'd completely forgotten we were in a bathroom in a house that belonged to someone I barely knew. "Oh. Yeah. Good thinking. Where?"

"The Volvo?" He ran his hand through his hair with a thoughtful frown.

Good, somewhere close. _Quick_. "I love that car," I breathed, and he grinned, tugging on my hand.

"C'mon."

He cracked open the door and stuck his head out, peeking out into the hall. I had to stifle a laugh. It was just so cliché, but I had to admit to a thrill of excitement at the sneakiness. That was funny in itself. There was no one around, so he pulled me out of the bathroom behind him and moved swiftly down the hall. I stumbled behind him, trying to keep up and not fall on my face.

He didn't slow as we went through the kitchen and out the back door, weaving through the people who were getting beer from a keg on the back porch. He nodded and kept moving even when someone called out to him, until we were practically running across the lawn. We paused in the shadows before he crept carefully around the corner of the house.

"Edward, what -" I began as we jogged quickly down the driveway to his car.

"If anyone stopped us," he answered, unlocking the door with his key fob, "we'd be stuck in there for _hours_."

Yeah, he was right. I could see him hesitate as he went to open the car door, and I realized he was debating about using the front or back seat. I wavered myself, but had the tiniest bit of relief when he opened the front passenger side door for me. He ran around and slid into the driver's seat, turning to face me with a beautiful smile.

"So," he breathed, leaning over the console, his hand coming up to tangle in the hair at the back of my neck. "I think we were right…about…here."

He pulled my mouth to his, and I purred in satisfaction as our lips rubbed, our noses bumped, and I tasted him on my tongue. My brain leaked out my ears – I could actually feel it oozing away as pure, simple pleasure replaced it, swelling and throbbing in my head. He kissed me gently, our mouths sliding, coming together and parting with soft, wet sounds. A wave of pure lust swept over me, building in its intensity as his mouth continued to move over mine. A small, hungry noise escaped me as I leaned toward him, trying to rise up on my knees to get closer. He answered that needy little breath with his own soft groan, his tongue feathering across my lips before plunging behind them. My hands clenched on the collar of his jacket and then rose to fist in the hair at the nape of his neck as I held on tight, letting the maelstrom of frightening and exciting sensations overwhelm me. Any rational thoughts I had left evaporated as I exulted in his kisses.

I had no idea how much time had passed before I found myself laying across the console, my head on his chest, his heavy, warm arms wrapped securely around me. I was panting, my lips tingling. I didn't have a whole lot to go by, but I figured that he was about the best kisser in the world. I closed my eyes, placing my palm on his heaving chest next to my face, and sighed. I snuggled there for a few minutes, enjoying the scent and the heat of him, the sound of the gradually slowing beat of his heart under my ear. I blinked lazily as he echoed my sigh, looking up to see his head tipped back with his eyes shut and a smile on that wicked mouth. I lay my head back down, and caught a glimpse of a figure outside the car in my peripheral vision.

My body was instantly doused with dread and adrenaline. I shot up into a sitting position, bumping the top of my head on his chin. I felt like I'd just been electrocuted, and my head spun with disbelief.

"Bella, what…" he began in a somewhat irritated voice, rubbing his chin, and then got a look at my shocked face. His tone changed immediately to anxiety and concern. "Bella, what?"

My mouth hung open in stunned astonishment. I raised a trembling finger and pointed out the windshield. "E-Edward…" I stuttered, my voice weak and wispy. I swallowed and tried again, my arm still outstretched. "Ed-Edward…"

"What?" he grabbed my upper arms and gave me a gentle shake, starting to look worried now.

I swallowed again, my eyes never leaving what I saw out in front of the car. "M-my…my…"

I thrust my hand forward, gesturing wildly, and he slowly turned his head to see what I was pointing at. He sucked in a huge breath, his lean body going tense.

"My _Dad_!" I finally managed, and turned to look into Edward's face, just to make sure it wasn't a horrible illusion and he saw it, too.

His face must look similar to mine, I thought, kind of a shocked, pale white, his mouth hanging open as we stared. Charlie walked from his cruiser parked across the street to the Crowley's front walk. He passed right in front of the Volvo where we sat, frozen and stunned, Edward's hands still gripping my arms.

"Jesus H Fucking Baldheaded Christ," he uttered softly, his eyes following Charlie's form, decked out in full uniform with cuff, gun, flashlight, and mace strapped to his hips.

He let out what sounded like a small moan, and I looked at him again. He was blank-faced with shock. Slowly, laughter began bubbling up out of my chest as I realized what he was thinking.

"He's here to break up the party. A neighbor or someone must have called." I pressed my hand over my mouth as Edward's gaze swung to me in astonishment. "Not to find me. Oh, Edward." I had to sit back and hold my stomach I was laughing so hard with relief. "He's not here because of _us_!"

It took him a few seconds before he relaxed, finally managing a sheepish grin. His forehead slumped down on his arms at the release of tension, and he ran his hands from my biceps to my elbows before letting me go.

"I almost had a fucking coronary," he admitted. "Jesus, Bella." He looked at me, and there was humor in his wry smile. "You do realize we aren't being busted at the party – by your father who just happens to be the Chief of Police—because we left to go make out in my car?"

"Saved by making out," I mused, grinning. "Now there's a concept I can get used to. Good thing you suggested moving this to the car."

"Yeah." He started to turn the key in the ignition, but paused. ""Wait, we need to call Alice and Jasper."

"We need to get the hell out of here," I pointed out, cocking my head at him. We watched Charlie ring the bell at the Crowley house. "Your car is kind of noticeable, you know."

He nodded, grimacing, and looked over his shoulder. There was no one parked behind us, and he pressed the brake before carefully sliding the Volvo into reverse.

"What are you doing?" I whispered. I had no idea why I was whispering, but it seemed like a good idea because he was being sneaky.

"Call Alice," he whispered back. "Tell her and Jasper to get the hell out of there and meet us the next block over. We're on a slope—I'm trying to get us out of here so he doesn't hear the engine and look." He nodded at Charlie's figure on the front porch.

"Ohh," I said admiringly, punching the speed dial number for Alice. "Good one, Cullen."

"It pays to have Emmett as an older brother," he said grimly as the car rolled slowly backward on its own.

Once we reached what he considered a safe distance away, he turned the engine over and drove away, headlights still off, to pick up Alice and Jasper around the corner.

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**Join us for the next chapter, later this week, when Bella thinks:**

**Button flys. Holy hell.**


	13. Chapter 13: Slow Whistle

**Stephenie Meyer is the Goddess of Twilight. I'm an addicted disciple.**

**Thanks to my hard-working betas Sarahsumbrella and silentnc. They, make THis - m ore funner**

**And big fat red puffy heart love to all you reading and reviewing - the response to the last couple of chapters has been amazing. A huge thank you to everyone who has been recc'ing - it makes me giddy as a schoolgirl. **

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**CHAPTER 13: Slow Whistle**

Edward called me on my cell phone Sunday afternoon, saying he was just being sure Charlie really hadn't seen us the night before. I was thrilled he still wanted to associate with me after the run in last night with my father, the Chief of Police. I teased him by saying that he was either really stupid or really brave, and laughed when he said the Cullens were no cowards.

"So," he said softly after a brief lull in the conversation. "What are you doing today?"

"Grocery shopping," I admitted ruefully. I hated grocery shopping. "Thrilling, huh?" It might be if he was with me, though. I sighed to myself. I had it bad.

"Hmm," he hummed over the line, and there was another short pause.

"What?" I asked curiously.

"Well," he said slowly, sounding just the slightest bit hesitant. "Would it be weird to admit that I might have had the fleeting thought I would maybe accidentally run into you this afternoon at the store? If I could weasel out of you – subtly and with charm, of course – when you were planning on going?"

I thrilled to his words. He was just as sick and strangely attracted as I was – _yes!_

"It would only be weird if I wasn't just thinking how much better grocery shopping would be if you were there," I confessed.

He laughed. "So we're both a little freaky."

"I guess so." I smiled into the phone, holding it closer to my face. Freaky for sure.

"So, when can I accidentally run into you at the Thriftway?"

"Um, half an hour?" I glanced at the pile of hair on my head in the mirror. "No, wait, better give me forty-five minutes."

"I'll see what I can do," he said in that low, sexy murmur. "Maybe I'll see you around, Bella."

"Yeah, maybe." I grinned again foolishly, my stomach leaping. "Bye."

I hung up and squealed, doing a little happy dance as I dashed to the bathroom. I almost tripped over my feet but caught myself on the counter. I needed to get cleaned up and go to the store. I couldn't remember being this excited about going to the Forks Thriftway, ever.

It was drizzling rain, of course, when I got there. I dashed through the parking lot, a wide, involuntary smile creasing my face when I noticed his silver Volvo parked in the next row. The grin spread until my cheeks ached as I saw him standing just outside the main door, hands in the front pockets of his faded blue jeans and a loose button up covering the dark T-shirt hanging from his broad shoulders.

"Edward Cullen!" I said, feigning surprise. "Is that you? What are you doing here?"

"Smartass," he grinned, throwing his arm around my shoulders and pulling me close to press a kiss to my head. I kept myself decorously still, but couldn't stop my stomach from doing the happy dance this time.

"Hmm." I screwed my face up as I looked at him, slipping my own arm around his waist. "I think you missed," I said, referring to where he landed the kiss and lifting my face to his suggestively. Did I just say that?

He looked briefly surprised, and then that cocky smirk lifted one side of his mouth. He turned to face me, his arms linking around my waist, and he lowered his head. My hands fisted in his T-shirt and I rose up on my tip-toes as he rubbed his mouth across mine, once, twice, and then he sucked my lower lip behind his teeth, giving it a gentle nip. His tongue touched the small sting before slowly releasing me. I sank back down onto my feet with a gasp, my head spinning and feeling quite faint. I wanted to attack him.

"Better?" he asked teasingly in my ear.

"Who am I?" I asked breathlessly, touching the spot his teeth had sunk into with my fingers. "Where am I?"

"In a public place," he chuckled, hugging my waist and steering me inside. "Let's get you some groceries."

We loaded my cart, walking down the aisles and arguing over the finer points of Count Chocula versus Coco Puffs. He had an understandable aversion to the latter, having been victimized by Emmett shooting them at him through his nose when they were little. He tossed a box of Trix into the cart and laughed at the picture of the rabbit on the front of the box, both of us remembering how he translated the tag line into foreign languages that first week of school. I wouldn't be able to eat breakfast now without thinking of his sexy voice speaking silly words in Italian.

We made it out of the store with only a few unnecessary items, and he walked me to my truck to help load the bags.

"You gonna be able to get all this stuff in the house?" he asked as we shut the door on the last of the load.

I rolled my eyes. "I think so, Sport. I've only been doing it for years now, if you can imagine little ol' me managing something as complicated as that."

He smirked, reaching out to gently tug a strand of my hair that had fallen over my shoulder. "That's not what I meant. I happen to have some time on my hands this afternoon, and wondered if you needed…help."

"Oh." I stared at him, and then slowly grinned. "Well, now that you mention it, I certainly could use some help. If you've got time. On your hands. I mean, my dad isn't home, so…"

"No?" he murmured, taking a small step closer.

"Nope. No one home but me this afternoon. I could use all the help I can get."

His fingertip brushed my cheek. "As you wish."

_Gah_. Big, stupid, unfair hockey player.

He followed me to my house, pulling in behind my truck in the driveway.

"Is it okay to park here?" he asked, jogging up to take the bags out of my arms as I hurried toward the house in the drizzle.

I glanced at his pretty little car and nodded. "Yeah. Charlie won't be home until tonight. He parks off to the side of the house with the cruiser."

He grimaced at the reminder of my dad being a cop, and I felt my cheeks heat as I motioned for him to deposit the bags on the counter.

"I'll get the rest," he said, putting his hand on my arm to stop me from going back out into the rain.

"Okay. Thanks." I put everything away as he brought the last of the bags in and took off his jacket, shaking it on the front porch before hanging it next to mine on the hooks in the hall.

"So," I said as I tucked the empty bags in the laundry room. "You want the five-cent tour?"

"Sure," he answered, interest lighting his features.

"Oh, well." I paused, suddenly realizing how small our house must seem to him. I'd never been in the Cullen home, but I knew where it was and had driven by it on many occasions on my way to Alice's house. She lived right down the street from him, and the area did not sport modest abodes. "Um, this is the kitchen, obviously."

I spread my arms as I stood in the small space, trying to imagine the worn counters and old but comfortable table and chairs as he saw them. "Laundry and bathroom through there," I gestured. "This way to the family and dining room."

It was really just one larger room, with Grandma Swan's old dining set tucked to one side. "Stairs," I said, moving up them as he trailed behind me.

"Bathroom," I pointed to the door at the top of the stairs and turned the corner. "My room." I paused. "Charlie's room is at the end of the hall."

He stopped next to me, his hands in the front pocket of his jeans as we stood side by side in the doorway, looking into my bedroom. I watched his face as his eyes roamed with avid interest around the small space, taking in the old, worn desk with the clunky PC, twin bed (thank goodness I'd pulled the quilt up this morning), and hooked rug on the floor. I bit my lip nervously.

He smiled down at me. "It smells like you," he said, and bumped my shoulder with his arm.

"It does?" I wrinkled my nose in query. He nodded, and I moved slowly into the room, slightly uncomfortable in the space for the very first time in my memory. I sat in the desk chair and he followed me, hands still in his pockets. He gave the bed a brief glance before walking across the room to the window. He pulled the curtain aside to peer out, and then turned to look at me.

"Tree," he said, tipping his head at the huge, old maple just outside my window.

"Uh, yeah?"

"Have you ever snuck out?" he grinned, arching an eyebrow.

"Me?" I squeaked in surprise, pointing at my chest. "Are you serious? Climbing out a window and down a tree? I don't have a death wish."

He laughed. "That's right, I wasn't thinking. Hmm." He stared at it thoughtfully for a couple of seconds, leaning to see down to the ground and turned back to me, resting his hips against the sill. "I climbed trees all the time when I was little."

"Really?" I mentally judged the expanse between the closest branch and the window, and how far Charlie's room was in terms of hearing distance. "You would have to be a superhero. Or have superpowers." And I didn't think the panty-dropping power would help him in this situation.

His eyes flicked to the bed again as if he knew what I was thinking, and I stood, rubbing my palms on my jeans. "Do you, uh, want a Coke or something?" I asked.

He nodded solemnly, and I could see a smile quirking at his mouth. I spun and tried to walk slowly out of the room and down the stairs so I wouldn't fall on my ass. He uncoiled his long body, following me at a much more graceful pace.

"Have a seat," I gestured to the sofa as I passed it on the way to the kitchen. "The TV remote should be on the coffee table."

I dashed into the kitchen and stopped in the middle of the room, pressing my hands to my temples. _Shit. Get it together, Swan,_ I chastised myself. _You finally have Edward Cullen alone in your house. What are you prepared to do?_ Chicken out, it would appear, and pretty much run screaming from my bedroom. Crap! Where was Inner Slut Girl when I needed her? I think she was still in a state of shock. When he'd leaned against the windowsill, slouching slightly and facing me, it had become apparent he favored button fly jeans. It had rendered both Inner Slut Girl and me stupid. Button flys. Holy hell.

_Holy hell._ I'd just had Edward Cullen in my bedroom – alone – and practically ran out like a pre-teen virgin. And it looked like I'd stay that way for the foreseeable future unless I womaned up. But it was those damn button flys. They turned me into a drooling, stammering, incoherent mess. It was completely unfair.

I pulled a couple of Cokes out of the fridge and pressed them to my hot cheeks before snagging glasses on my way back into the family room. He was sitting on the sofa, not watching TV but shuffling the books I had sitting on the low table in front of him. I froze as I spotted a romance novel peeking out from under Charlie's newspaper on the corner of the table. It wasn't that I was embarrassed to have him see I was reading a romance, it was that particular one. It prominently displayed a woman's leg ending in a sexy, red high heel crossed over a hockey stick on the cover. My face was bright red as I ran the last few steps and practically tossed the drinks at him as I grabbed the paper and book in my arms.

"Sorry, just let me clean up a little," I stammered, running with my guilty burden back through the kitchen and into the laundry room. I stuffed the items in the dryer, sagging against it. I took a second to try to collect myself before dashing back out to where he sat. "There. Sorry."

He was watching me with wide eyes. I felt my cheeks go red yet again. He started to stand.

"Am I making you nervous, Bella? Shit, I'm sorry, I can go -"

"No!" I practically yelled, and took a deep breath. _Calm down. Don't ruin this._ "No," I said more normally. "Don't go. I just forgot it was kind of messy in here."

He sat slowly back down, his eyes on me, and I forced a smile. I picked up one of the cans of Coke from where he had set them on the coffee table and handed it to him as I sat next to him. I ignored the glass as I popped the tab on the soda and took a desperate gulp. He did the same, although much more slowly, taking a small sip and watching me over the top of the can. His green eyes were focused and a little intense. My stomach fluttered with butterflies.

I watched as he leaned forward to set his can back on the low table on top of what was left of Charlie's newspaper. He sat back, stretching one arm along the top of the sofa. I followed the movement with my eyes, and then the progress of his other arm as he held it out toward me and curled his forefinger.

"Bella. Come here."

"Huh?" The butterflies in my stomach turned into dive-bombers. An electric tingle shot through me, ending in a sizzle at the juncture of my thighs.

One corner of his mouth curled up slowly, and he stared me down. "Come. Here."

Holy hell. I reached to set my Coke can next to his, fumbling badly and almost spilling it all over the floor. I steadied it with a deep breath and glanced back at him. He was still watching me with that faintly amused but tender expression, so I sat back up and scooted toward him. As soon as I was within reach he curled his arm around my back, putting a large, warm palm against my shoulder blade and pressing me toward him.

"Don't be nervous," he whispered as my face got closer to his. "Unless you don't want me to kiss you."

I squeaked as the sizzle intensified, and he paused in his inexorable pull. "No," I assured him quickly in an unsteady whisper. He stilled completely and arched a thick brow. "No! I mean, yes! I want you to…uh…kiss me. Please."

He chuckled quietly and closed the small distance between us with a swift yank. His soft lips nudged mine, and I opened eagerly. His tongue touched and stroked, soothed and enticed, and I ached for him, for more. My arms wrapped around his neck and I held on, sliding my body closer to his on the sofa and pressing hard once I found him. A low moan escaped him as he leaned forward, forcing me back until I was laying with him half on top of me. It felt almost perfect. His hands slipped down my sides, from my shoulders to my hips and back up, his mouth constantly moving on mine.

We rubbed and slid together like that for what felt like hours, until we were panting for breath and my mouth was tender and swollen from his. I was tingling and throbbing all over, but especially my chest and between my legs – parts of me that had obviously been asleep my entire life. I hadn't any idea what sexual desire – lust – truly was until Edward. I wanted him to touch me. I wanted his hands on my breasts and between my legs. I wriggled involuntarily, trying to nudge his hands where I was craving him. I didn't know if I was relieved or pissed at being left frustrated.

He eventually eased away with a reluctant huff of breath. I tried to hold him in place despite the ache in my jaw and on my skin from the unaccustomed activity.

"God, Bella, you taste so good," he sighed, touching my swollen lower lip and smiling down at me.

I lifted myself by pulling on his strong arms, wanting his mouth again. He sat up slowly, bringing me with him. "Bella." I could see the conflict on his handsome face as his gaze went from my eyes, to my mouth, to my chest, and shot back up to meet my eyes. "I think we should…take it easy." He blew out a half-laughing breath and ran his hand through his hair at his temple. "God knows I don't want to, but if we don't stop…" he quirked a brow.

"Yeah," I panted, running a hand through my own hair. He reached up and took it in his, turning it back and forth as he frowned down at it.

"You're so small," he murmured.

"And you're just right," I teased, bringing our joined hands to my mouth and pressing a soft kiss to his rough knuckles. He smiled at me, his eyes bright and fervent on mine, and I sighed.

"What?" he asked.

I looked down at our entwined hands. "I just still can't believe…you're here with me."

He let out a frustrated breath, but when my eyes flew to his face he had that sweet smile curving his wide mouth. "Bella," he said softly. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be. Right here, with you. Now cut it out, okay?"

"Okay," I sighed, and he tugged me close to nestle me against his broad chest. I relaxed into him with a happy sigh, and his slightly calloused hand rubbed slowly up and down my arm. "You do know I've wanted to kiss on you for a while, don't you?" I said.

"Really." His voice was amused. "Me, too. Aren't we lucky?"

"Mmm," I breathed. "And I can kiss on you any time I want?"

"Anytime," he agreed. I felt his lips press against the top of my head.

"Anywhere I want?" I smiled where he couldn't see.

His voice was low, smoky, and pure sex. "Anywhere, mia Bella."

"Mmm," I hummed again, taking his hand in mine and placing a soft kiss on his palm.

He inhaled sharply, and I brought his hand up to place it over my heart, carefully avoiding my breast although that was exactly where I wanted it to be. I could feel his heart speed up under my ear before settling into a strong, pulsing rhythm. I smiled again. There was nothing else in the world that could have assured me he wanted to be here with me than the tell-tale, involuntary response of the organ I wanted to possess. It throbbed under my ear, and I was content.

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**Next chappie Edward steps up his game.**

**Edward Cullen had just outed us in front of the entire school – on purpose.**


	14. Chapter 14: Deke

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I own a stinky dog. No idea what he got into, but it's just **_**wrong**_**. Wonder if she'll trade...**

**X's and O's to my betas Sarahsumbrella and silentnc.**

**Um, wow on the reviews and alerts. Thank you guys - so much.**

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**CHAPTER 14: Deke**

The next morning – Monday morning – I was both ridiculously eager and unbelievably anxious to go to school. I couldn't wait to see Edward again. He'd left my house yesterday afternoon reluctantly, with a series of enthusiastic and deep kisses in the entry hallway. He'd only forced himself away when I murmured Charlie would be home at any minute. I'd run upstairs and stayed hidden in my room, even after hearing Charlie arrive home, hoping to cool my hot cheeks, giddy demeanor, and slightly swollen lips. I'd stared in the mirror over my dresser at the flushed, happy reflection of the girl that was me. He liked me, he wanted to be with me, and he'd actually given me permission to kiss him anytime and anywhere I wanted. That meant something more than just a weekend hookup, right?

Maybe my little sexual fantasies about him could become more than that – after all, my fantasies about him flirting with me, asking me out, and kissing me had all come true. Inner Slut Girl went down with barely a whimper. I didn't think I'd need her anymore. Who wouldn't be having wonderfully erotic thoughts about someone like Edward Cullen? Now that I'd gotten to know him, and found out that his mind matched his incomparable face and body, I only wanted him more than ever. I gave a little shiver of delight and anticipation.

With a start, I realized I'd been sitting in the cab of my truck in the student parking lot for longer than could be considered entirely normal. As I stepped out and slung my bag over my shoulder, my eyes sought out his silver Volvo. It was parked in its usual spot close to the building, but there was no sign of his tall, lean figure. I suppressed a sigh of disappointment as I walked toward Alice's yellow Porsche. My steps slowed as I spotted two tall, masculine figures leaning up against the hood. My stomach danced in anticipation and delight. _Edward_.

I smiled at Alice's enthusiastic greeting and Jasper's friendly nod. I hadn't seen Alice's small form standing in front of Jasper, loosely circled by his arms as I'd approached. I turned my head to meet Edward's bright gaze with a trembling, thrilled smile.

"Hey," I managed, just staring at his finely drawn face.

"Hey," he returned softly, a mirror of my expression on his features.

He held out his hand to me, and I bit my lip as I shyly placed my fingers in his palm. He pulled me steadily toward him until I bumped up against his chest and hip.

"Good morning," he said softly, intimately, just for me as he continued to smile and search my face.

I couldn't stop the silly grin from spreading across my features. I squeezed his hand and a thrill shot through me as he leaned down, pressing his lips to my forehead. I finally glanced away from him to see Alice practically vibrating against Jasper, her hands clasped beneath her chin and a grin to rival mine lighting her features. She bounced on her toes and opened her mouth, but Jasper promptly clamped a hand over her face. She squeaked indignantly.

"See you guys inside," he laughed, rolling his eyes and dragging Alice with him across the parking lot.

Edward nodded in thanks and turned back to me, looping both his arms low around my waist. "So," he said with his crooked grin. "How was the rest of your Sunday evening?"

"Hmm." I pretended to give it serious thought. "Boring." I bit my lip and tried really hard not to blush. "Lonely." It was true. I'd never felt lonely in my house before, in my room, but I had missed his presence last night.

"Funny," he murmured, sliding a step closer to me. "Me, too."

I smiled internally, pleased at his admission. I felt much less like a perverted freak hearing his feelings so closely mirrored mine. It was such a relief to know that my bordering-on-obsessive attraction wasn't one-sided. He was watching my face carefully as he bent slowly to place a chaste kiss on my mouth. I blushed as he straightened with a pleased smile, glancing around at the parking lot to see if we'd been observed. It had pretty much cleared out as it was getting closer to first bell.

"Come on," he said, turning me by my shoulders and walking toward the building. He didn't take my hand but stayed very close to my side, his shoulder curving over mine from behind, his hand almost at my waist. It felt possessive without being overly demanding, and I liked the sensation, although I really wouldn't _mind_ holding his hand…

I was so focused on the warm sensation of his big body close to mine that I tripped over the curb. I would have gone sprawling across the asphalt if he hadn't displayed those excellent reflexes and caught me around the waist.

"Jeez, Bella, can't you watch where you're going?" he joked, and I took a half-hearted, teasing swing at him.

He laughed and ducked, reaching out in a lightning fast movement to grab me around the waist and haul me over his broad shoulder. I shrieked in surprise, drawing the attention of everyone in the parking lot and in the quad as he jogged to the doors, laughing.

"This is much safer," he told me, one arm clasped across the back of my upper thighs just below the curve of my butt while the other rested firmly on it. "And much more fun."

I couldn't speak as I was gasping for breath—and _he had his hand on my ass_. My hair hung over my face and I – thankfully – couldn't see anything as he walked swiftly into the building. Blood was rushing to my brain and my bag bumped into the back of my head with every step. His shoulder dug painfully into my stomach, making it difficult to catch my breath, and I was _mortified_. I was also thrilled, turned on, and delighted. I could hear surprised and amused murmurs as he moved through the crowded hallways, toting me along like a sack of potatoes, and I forced myself to go limp, hiding behind the curtain of my hair. I was going to kill him – and here I had been thinking it was probably too soon to hold hands at school.

He finally came to a stop and slid me off his shoulder, steadying me on my feet. I spluttered and fought my way through my hair to glare at his smirking face towering above me. It was hard to pretend I was angry when I was thrilled to my bones, but I tried.

"What the hell was that?" I huffed, and he laughed, completely unrepentant.

"Got you here safely, didn't I?" he leered.

"Stupid, macho idiot," I grumbled, turning to my locker to hide my delighted grin and fumbling with the lock. What the hell was my combination, anyway?

He stroked the hair away from my face and over my shoulder. His fingers trailed down my neck briefly, and I tilted my head to give him another glare. It was probably ruined by the shiver that rippled through me, and he smiled knowingly.

"See you at lunch, Bella. Be safe." He leaned down and kissed me senseless, before running his nose along my cheek until I felt his mouth at my ear. "Mine," he breathed softly, and I froze in shock. "Finally."

With a completely arrogant and undeniably gorgeous smirk, he turned and strutted down the hall. I stared after him with my mouth hanging open, his words ringing in my ears. I hadn't imagined it, had I? I pinched myself and flinched. A slow and utterly delighted smile crossed my face. Holy hell. Edward Cullen had just outed us in front of the entire school – on purpose. I did a little happy dance in front of my locker.

The gossip spread like wildfire. By lunch, not only had everyone heard about Edward hauling me through school this morning over his shoulder like some epic caveman, but they were also talking about how we had groped each other in front of my locker this morning and how many times and where we had "done it" this past weekend. I hadn't realized I was such a wild and crazy girl – or a slut. After being seriously annoyed, worried, and generally pissed off, I decided that it was really kind of funny. I guess I would have to get used to people talking about me, because everyone talked about him. Whispers, giggles, glares, and curious stares surrounded us as we all sat at our usual table at lunch.

"Well, you guys are the new hot mess," Alice grinned, plunking her soda down and sitting next to Jasper, who was smirking. "I heard you guys sexed it up in the parking lot of the Forks Diner Friday night."

I rolled my eyes, and Edward snorted. We grinned at each other. If they only knew the epic cockblocking that occurred that night.

"I heard it was in the bathroom," Jasper volunteered.

"Ew, gross." Alice wrinkled her nose.

I shrugged and once again met Edward's gaze. It wasn't the _diner_ bathroom that had seen some action…

"I heard in the backseat of Charlie's cruiser, in your driveway," Angela giggled, raising her eyebrows.

Ben snorted with laughter. "That one's actually kind of flattering if you think about it, Edward. You'd have to have the biggest set of brass balls in the world to do it in the back of your girlfriend's father's police car."

Edward shuddered and put his arm causally around the back of my seat. "Sorry, guys, but they crawl up inside me just at the thought of her dad and his gun, let alone his police car."

We all laughed, and Jasper cringed. "So do mine, come to think of it, and I'm not even dating her."

Dating. Girlfriend. I had never been into labels, never even thought in those terms. I'd never had reason to before. But damn, they sounded nice. We were dating. I was his girlfriend. And – best of all – he had said I could kiss him whenever and wherever I wanted. _Yay_. I scooted my chair closer to him and planted a big, smacking one right on his pouty lower lip. He looked surprised but pleased.

"Aw, aren't you two just too fucking cute." Jasper leered at us, but Edward just smiled and tightened his arm around my shoulders, hugging me to his side.

Mr. Banner gave us our mid-term lab project in Biology, and I was secretly glad for the assignment. It meant more reasons to spend time with Edward, although I was getting more comfortable with the thought that I may not need an excuse. He wanted Sexual Health and Reproduction for our topic, but we got the DNA one instead.

"Do you want to come over after school and work on it?" I asked him when class was over and we were picking up our books and bags to leave.

"I've got late practices tonight and tomorrow." He frowned, tugging apologetically on the ends of my hair with a lopsided grimace. "But how about Wednesday after school? Why don't you come over to my house? You can have the tour and meet my mom and dad."

"Okay," I agreed, nervous about meeting his parents and disappointed I'd have to wait until Wednesday to spend time with him out of school. "I'm pretty sure Charlie's working the swing-shift this week, so I don't have to worry about making dinner or anything."

"Then plan on staying for dinner at my house." He rolled his eyes at my concerned look as we walked down the hall. "Don't worry, I'll clear it with Mom first. She won't mind. She's dying to meet you."

"She is?" I was somewhat alarmed.

"Yeah." He grinned down at me, and I realized he had walked me to my gym class. I stopped outside the locker room door, hugging my bag to my chest. "I might have mentioned you a couple of times."

"You might have, huh?"

"Yeah." The corners of his mouth lifted and he stepped in closer to me, backing me up against the wall. "I didn't mention anything about what a great ass you have, though, or how I really have a thing for biting your lower lip."

I struggled for breath, blushing hotly as he lifted his hand and placed it on the brick behind me, leaning in and looming his tall body over mine. He grinned cockily, slowly lowering his head to bite my lower lip, rolling it between his teeth and then rubbing it with his tongue. My eyes were squeezed shut, and I was panting when he pulled away.

"Careful, there," he said softly with a chuckle when I staggered forward.

"Yeah, thanks," I gasped, glaring playfully at him. "How do you expect me to concentrate in gym after that? And I do need to concentrate."

He shook his head and walked backwards away from me. "I'd say sorry, but I wouldn't mean it."

I shook my head. "You're a jackass."

He dramatically clutched one hand over his heart and staggered, pretending mortal hurt. A reluctant laugh burst from me and I shook my head. I must really have it bad if I found his silly clowning around so amusing.

"Be careful at practice," I called softly, not wanting to go into the locker room while I could still see him. Yeah, did I mention I had it bad?

"_You_ be careful," he admonished me, shaking his head and finally turning around to jog off to his last class. "Silly Bella."

He called me late that night on my cell after he got home from practice. I did a little dance around my bed when I heard the ringtone and saw it was him calling. I'd been toying with the idea of calling him, just to hear his voice and see what he was doing, but I thought it might be too much – too stalker-ish. It did my heart good to see he had the same tendencies.

"I'm glad you called," I admitted after we had chatted about what we were doing and how his practice had gone. "I wanted to hear your voice. Weird?"

"No," he told me. "At least, I don't think so, because that's why I called. Maybe we're both weird and that's why we get along so well."

"Hmm," I considered, hugging the stupid phone to my ear and curling up on my bed. "Is it always like this? I know, that's a dumb, clichéd question, but…I've got no experience with this. I don't think we're normal."

He laughed. "No…I don't know. I don't have that much experience with this, either." I snorted disbelievingly, and he huffed. "What, it's not like I've been a serial dater or a man-whore or anything, Bella."

"Compared to my dating life, you have been. So, is this normal?"

"I don't know," he repeated. "I've never felt this way about anybody before."

I grinned and did an internal squeal. "But you've dated. You went out with someone for a while, right?"

"I guess." I could hear the caution in his voice. "Tanya and I were together for a little while last year, but it really wasn't that long. We were both, well, young, I guess. It was more like hanging out." Ah, yes, Tanya, the pretty, strawberry-headed pom-pom girl.

"And making out?"

I could practically hear his embarrassment and discomfort over the phone. "Um…yeah?"

"So, what happened?"

There was a shocked silence. "You want to hear the details of our make-out sessions?"

"God no!" I laughed. "I mean, why did you break up?" I wanted to know so I didn't make the same mistake.

"I don't know." He was starting to sound a little annoyed and uncomfortable. I was kind of enjoying myself. "We were more friends than anything else, and then that just started to fall apart. We just weren't really into being together. It got to the point where we were mean and snipey to each other all the time. Kissing her was like kissing my sister, anyway. If I had one."

I considered this. I certainly didn't think he felt like he was kissing his sister when he laid one on me. I'd better check. "It was like kissing your sister? Right from the beginning?"

"Um, yeah. Yeah, I guess it was like that from the beginning."

"You don't feel like that when you kiss me, do you?"

"God no!" He unconsciously imitated my tone from earlier, and laughed. "I wish I was kissing you right now."

I flopped on my back and squirmed. There was a fluttering throb between my legs. "Me, too," I whispered, and he groaned. My eyes flicked speculatively to the window, to the tree right outside. I suddenly remembered something. "Hey, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Alice told me that Jasper told her that you told him you were off girls. What did you mean by that?" I wondered if Tanya was the reason.

"Um, what?"

I chuckled, realizing what I had said probably made no sense. "Jasper told Alice you were 'off girls.' I just wondered what that meant?"

He was silent for a few seconds. "Well," he began slowly. "There are a couple of reasons, I guess. The whole Tanya thing…it kind of turned into a mess. She just wouldn't let it go, but it was more about her pride than any actual feelings she had for me. She followed me around and kept calling me for weeks. It made me nuts, especially since I knew it wasn't because she was devastated by our breaking up, but more how it looked to her so-called friends. She kind of turned into my own clinging version of hell."

"Oh." I wondered what the other reasons were, but was too distracted by what he'd said to pursue it. If he didn't want to see me anymore I'd be devastated, and I wouldn't give two hoots about how it looked to anybody.

"Yeah. After that, I decided I wasn't going to date anyone unless it was someone I really felt a connection with – and there was this girl I had my eye on, but she wouldn't give me the time of day…"

"Me?" I asked hesitantly, barely daring to hope.

"Yes." He said it gently but decisively. "I told you I've never felt this way about anyone before, Bella."

"Oh," I repeated. "That's good." A wide smile broke out across my face. "I've never felt this way before, either."

"That's good." He echoed my words, and I was pretty sure he was smiling, too. "Well, I should go," he said reluctantly. "It's getting late. I'll see you tomorrow. Good night, Bella."

"Good night, Edward."

There was silence.

"Did you hang up?" I asked, feeling silly.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Dunno. Why didn't you?"

"Dunno."

"Okay, really, good night."

"Yeah, good night."

Silence again.

"Edward?"

"Yeah?"

I snorted, and heard his laugh. "Hang up, you weirdo."

"Okay. Bella?"

"What?"

"Pleasant dreams."

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**Next time, Bella gets invited to Chez Cullen, but gets a little carried away...imagine that...**

**Oh yeah, I wanted to play doctor with him - here on the desk, on that leather couch in his room, on the black lacquered piano bench upstairs, on the shiny granite counters in the kitchen, on the hood of the Volvo – _whoa_.**


	15. Chapter 15: Home Ice

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and its characters. She kindly lets us play with them.**

**Many thanks to my betas Sarahsumbrella and silentnc. They fix my mistakes and make the best comments and suggestions.**

**Please note: after this chapter we leave the family-friendly portion of this story. If you are under the age of consent, please do not read further without the consent or being accompanied by a parent or legal guardian. Please. There will be citrus in the upcoming chapters.**

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**CHAPTER 15: Home Ice**

It was drizzling, of course, the next morning when I jogged out to get in my old truck. I was finding that I had more energy lately in the morning. Was I looking forward to going to school? Well, yes—yes I was. I threw myself into the cab, brushing at the damp tendrils of hair that clung to my cheeks. I bounced in my seat, turned the key – and nothing.

I frowned, turning the key again. Not even a click, and certainly not the usual loud roar and rumble I was used to. Not even a backfire. I tried again, just because, but still nothing. I leaned forward and banged my head against the steering wheel. Crap. How was I going to get to school? I eyed Charlie's cruiser parked to the side of the house and grimaced. I seriously hated having to be dropped off anywhere in that vehicle. I bit my lip, considering. I could call Alice. I could call…Edward. I glanced at the clock on my phone and hurriedly pressed the speed dial button before I could change my mind.

He answered almost at once. "Bella? Hey, good morning."

"Hey, Edward. Um, where are you?"

"I'm just pulling out of my driveway on my way to school. Why? What's wrong?"

"My truck is dead. Really dead. Not even a death rattle."

He laughed. Stupid luxury car owner. "I'm on my way."

"Are you sure?"

"Shut up. I'll be there in a few." He disconnected.

I got out and slammed the door. I scowled at the heavy, leaden sky as I trudged through the wet and back to the house. Charlie was just coming down the stairs, yawning widely and scratching his head. He looked at me in surprise. "Hey Bells, what's up?"

"The stupid truck is dead. It doesn't even make a noise when I turn the key."

Charlie looked thoughtful. "Huh. It's probably the starter or alternator. I can take a look later. If that's it, I can probably fix it." He yawned again and peered out the window at the now pouring rain. "Let me get my keys. And my pants. I'll drive you to school."

_Oh, God_. "Um, that's okay, Dad. I just called Edward. He's on his way."

He froze and turned to face me, raising a brow. "Edward, huh?"

"Yeah. He was, um, already on his way to school, so…" I shifted my bag to my other shoulder nervously and made a show of looking out the window at the driveway.

"Edward," he said again, smiling and shaking his head as he shuffled into the kitchen.

I bit my lip and watched his retreating back anxiously, but there was no other comment forthcoming. A few minutes later, Edward's silver Volvo pulled into the drive, and I made a dash for the door.

"Ah-hem." Charlie's dry cough stopped me with my hand on the knob. He had a cup of coffee in his hand and was leaning against the kitchen doorframe in his ratty bathrobe. "Doesn't Edward have the courtesy to come to the door?"

My face burned with color. "Dad! He's doing me a favor."

"So, what? Favors negate common courtesy? Since when?"

There was a knock on the door, and I glared at Charlie triumphantly. "Hah! See?" I whipped open the door and practically shoved Edward back down the stairs.

"Ah-hem." _Damn_ Charlie.

I closed my eyes and then opened them to meet Edward's smiling but questioning green gaze. "Hi. I'm sorry," I whispered, making a surreptitious gesture toward my father. Edward's attention shifted to his imposing figure standing in the doorway, and he took a step forward.

"Good morning, Chief Swan."

"Good morning, Edward. Thank you for helping Bella this morning." Great, he made me sound like a charity case.

"It's no problem. I'm glad to do it." Edward's smiling eyes moved back to me.

"Yeah, well." Charlie rubbed the back of his neck and gave Edward his cop face. "You'll be dropping her off here after school?"

"Yes, sir, that's the plan."

"You'll just be dropping her off, is what I mean, right?" Charlie continued. "Because she and I haven't had a chance yet to discuss having, um, company over while I'm not home."

I glared at him. "It's never been an issue before."

Now_ I_ got cop-face. "You've never had a boy over before."

Technically, that wasn't true, but we all knew what he meant. Edward's cheeks were tinted with color as he looked at me sheepishly. "Yeah, well, um…I have practice after school, so…yeah. I'll just be dropping her off here."

"Good, good." Charlie was all smiles as he saluted us with his coffee cup. "Thanks again, Edward. You guys have a good day at school."

I motioned Edward to head back to his car, and I made sure he was down the steps before I whirled on Charlie. "Dad!" I hissed in mortification.

He laughed. "Go on, Bells. Can't deny your old man some fun."

"Not funny!" _So not funny_.

He stepped forward and kissed my forehead. "Go on. We'll have our little father-daughter chat later."

I shuddered and ran to Edward's car. Not if I could help it.

"I'm so sorry," I groaned as I put on my seatbelt. "I'll call Alice next time."

He smiled and started to reach out to me before glancing back up at the house and putting his hand back on the steering wheel. "It's no problem, Bella, really. As a matter of fact, it's a good excuse for me to bring up the subject. I've been trying to come up with a smooth way to see if you wanted to ride with me, anyway." He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye as he drove. "I lost my carpool buddy to Alice, you know."

I smiled. "I guess we could take turns."

He laughed and shook his head. "I have to come by here anyway. It would be silly for you to come all the way to my house and then back this way to school. It's no problem. My car is better, anyway."

"There's nothing wrong with my truck," I protested automatically, and then laughed at his pointed and incredulous look. "Okay, okay, I get your point."

He smiled. "Plus this way I get you all to myself for a little longer."

"Yeah." I smiled back at him. Too bad his hands would be otherwise occupied.

We attracted some attention arriving at school together. Pretty much everyone in the lot and in the quad stared at us. Edward just smirked, but I knew everyone wasn't simply curious about the hot jock dating the quiet girl. I could tell they were wondering if they'd be treated to a show like yesterday. I have to say we were actually quite boring, just holding hands as Edward walked me to my first hour class, carrying my bag despite my red-faced protests.

"I feel like an idiot," I said, making a subtle grab for it. He twisted slightly, moving it out of my reach. "I can carry my own stuff. It's not like I'm struck weak and stupid from your gorgeous face." Well, not all the time, anyway.

"Gorgeous, huh?" He smirked—like he didn't know. I snorted. "Just deal, Swan. I like it. It's traditional and all that shit."

I rolled my eyes and gave up arguing with him. We were doing well so far, being as inconspicuous as we could, and I didn't want it to deteriorate into a shouting and pulling match. He was stubborn and perverse enough to let it, and he'd just win anyway. "It's asinine and archaic," I complained.

"Gosh, I don't know what that means, but my mama always says stupid is as stupid does."

I rolled my eyes and stifled a laugh. "Okay, Forrest, enough."

In biology we discussed our DNA project.

"My Dad has a bitch-load of medical books. You're coming over tonight, right? We can use them. It's better than going to the library."

I considered the possibilities, running my finger down the handout Mr. Banner had provided detailing the assignment. Edward leaned forward and breathed on me. I hunched defensively and covered the back of my neck with my hand. I couldn't help but inhale his sweet, warm breath before I tried to shake off his mind-numbing effect. I made a valiant effort to concentrate.

He intensified his evil superpowers by curving the half-smile across his mouth, and I licked my lips. "You know, it'll be more private. Plus you'll get dinner out of the deal." His voice was smooth, deep temptation.

"Right. But I have to meet your parents." I eyed the maddening little smirk still on his face.

"True, but they're not so bad. I mean, I was brave enough to meet your dad, right?"

He had me there.

**-0-**

Okay, so I was nervous. Meeting his parents for the first time – well, his mother at least, I'd met Dr. Cullen a couple of times in the Emergency Room, but this was so different – yeah, nervous pretty well covered it. I had on a simple pair of jeans and a nice shirt which were comfortable but looked presentable enough. I pulled my hair back, although I was rethinking that decision. I knew from my own mother that hair in the face was an annoyance to the maternal set, but it was kind of my safety net. If I pulled it back I would have nothing to hide behind should things get tense. I decided to wear my hair combs so it wouldn't be in my face, but I could take them out without being too obvious if I needed a shield. I grabbed my favorite and least used pair, the ones decorated with small, glittering silver and blue stones. They'd been my Grandma Swan's, and they were the only things of hers Charlie had. They would give me a much needed boost of confidence.

I'd told Charlie earlier where I was going and that I would be back long before he got home from work. I set a quick note on the kitchen table to remind him, just in case, and gathered my book bag and cell phone. With a deep breath I left the house, locking the door behind me. It wasn't a long drive in distance to the Cullens' home, but it was quite a way in circumstance. Charlie had been able to make the necessary repairs to my truck – thank goodness it had been the starter and that was within his skill level to fix. Edward had given me specific directions to his house, but I knew which one it was from driving past it on numerous occasions on my way to Alice's. She only lived a couple of blocks from the Cullen's.

I pulled into the driveway and got out of the truck. I smoothed damp palms over my jeans and made sure my top was in its proper place, not bunched up around my waist. The large white house was set back off the road and surrounded by a number of mature trees, giving it the illusion of isolation. It was huge and majestic – I think I counted three stories and an absolutely enormous attached garage. I grabbed my bag and walked slowly up the walk. The front door alone almost sent me running. It was two huge, thick double doors, planked and bound with what looked like wrought iron and a stunning stained glass inset of a stylized rose. I was reminded of Charles Rennie Mackintosh. It was lovely. I bit my lip and pressed the intricately set button for the doorbell.

Soft, lilting chimes echoed inside the house, and I rolled my eyes. Even the frickin' doorbell was ritzy. I shifted as my nerves flared and jumped, startled a bit when one of the doors opened suddenly. I half expected to see Lurch framed in the light and emit a deep, baritone "you rang" like in the old Addams Family show. I couldn't stifle a giggle when it was only Edward, his tousled hair its usual mess, although he towered in the frame in a similar manner.

"What's so funny?" he asked with a smile, stepping back and motioning for me to enter.

"Nothing," I assured him as he took my bag—again with the bag. I wondered what was so offensive about me carrying it. "I'll tell you later."

"Okay." He touched my arm as he set my stuff at the foot of the staircase.

I forced my eyes away from him to take in the interior of the house. The wide, curving staircase ran around the wall of the slightly oblong foyer. It was done in large tiles and soft-looking wallpaper, with stunning photos on the walls in sepia tones. I saw a large room off to my right and a hallway to my left. He steered me in that direction.

"Come on, I'll introduce you to my mom. My Dad's on his way home from work, but he'll be here in a bit and then we can eat. Are you hungry?"

"Yeah, a little," I said as we walked into the huge kitchen. The first floor of our entire house could fit in here. It was done in warm tones of cherry and granite, with tall, simple cabinets, a Sub-Zero refrigerator-freezer that was the size of my closet, and the most stunning Viking stove I have ever seen outside of a magazine. I gravitated toward it.

"Ohh, look, it's beautiful," I crooned, reaching out to brush the gleaming knobs.

"Do you cook?" The voice came from the sink. In my haze of lust over the stove and cooktop, I hadn't noticed the small figure standing there. She was tiny, barely taller than I was, and had a familiar cloud of shiny auburn hair. She was smiling warmly as she walked toward me, and I knew where Edward had gotten his lovely eyes.

I yanked my hand back and put it behind me like I'd been caught stealing. "Um, yeah, I love to cook. Sorry."

"No, don't apologize," she said, wiping her hands on a towel. "I'm Edward's mother, Esme. It's nice to see such enthusiasm for a stove."

I laughed nervously, glancing at Edward. He was smiling down on me with a confused glint in his eye. "Mom, this is Bella. Bella, my mom, Esme. I didn't know you liked to cook."

"Yeah." I shrugged. "I love it when I get a chance. Usually it's just me and Charlie, though, and he's not very adventurous in his eating habits."

"It's so nice to meet you, Bella," she said, leaning forward and giving me a brief hug. I looked up, startled, at Edward, but he just grinned and shrugged one shoulder. "You're welcome to come create anytime. It would be nice to have some company in the kitchen. I'm here in a houseful of men who have no interest in making food, only eating it." She made a face, and I smiled in sympathy.

"Speaking of which…?" Edward trailed off suggestively, grabbing some vegetables sitting on a plate on the counter.

Esme smacked his hand good-naturedly and laughed when he flinched with theatric flair. She grabbed his ear and yanked him down to her level, giving him a loud smacking kiss. "Ow," he whined, but smiled, rubbing the side of his head.

She swatted at him again and pushed him toward me. "Go on, give Bella the tour. Your dad should be home shortly and we'll eat."

"Okay," he said, taking my arm and marching me out of the kitchen.

I gave one last lingering glance at the Viking and managed, "It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Cullen. Thank you for having me over. Are you sure I can't help?"

"It's Esme," she corrected. "And no, everything's pretty much finished. You two have fun."

It was a moot point; Edward was already dragging me through the dining room. "Laundry room to the garage is that way. This is the family room." He guided me through the open, welcoming space, filled with overstuffed furniture and what looked like a complicated television and stereo system. We came back to the front of the house and the foyer, and I realized we'd gone in a large circle. He started up the curving staircase, and I followed him, admiring the unique design. The stairs ended on open landing overlooking the foyer, but I could see more going up to our left.

"This is Emmett's floor," he said, stopping at the top of the stairs in front of some double doors. "That's his room."

"Emmett's _floor_?" I asked incredulously.

"Yeah." He turned to walk down the hall and I once again followed, my eyes wide. He pushed open yet another set of double doors, and we walked into a testosterone playground.

"Workout room," he said unnecessarily as I stood in the doorway.

There was just about every type of gym equipment in the large, cool space. Mats and soft flooring covered the surface underneath our feet. There were pulleys, weight benches, a stair climber, treadmill, elliptical machine, rower…the list went on and on. Just being in the room with all the heavy and complicated stuff made me nervous, and I stepped carefully as he led me through to a door on the far side.

"Bathroom, bedroom, balcony." Edward walked through each, stopping at the French door that led out onto a covered balcony that overlooked the front lawn. He glanced down at me, and I nodded as he seemed to be looking for some sort of response. I was dumbstruck. He took my hand and led me back out onto the landing – another circle. He began climbing the shorter flight of stairs I had seen earlier, and we came to the top of a narrow hall that was open on one side to the foyer three stories below. The other side was strung with windows looking out the front of the house. He hesitantly moved into an open, airy room that was built around a beautiful black piano. There were all kinds of musical paraphernalia – amps, wires, other things I didn't recognize along one wall—with a few guitars on stands.

"My floor," he said softly, looking down at me. "Music room."

I nodded and barely stilled the urge to run my fingertips over the glossy, flawless surface of the piano as we passed. It was a very similar floor plan to Emmett's just below, with a few small differences.

"Bathroom," he told me, flipping on the light as we moved through the enormous space. I glanced around and took a deep breath; I'd recognize that scent anywhere. The room was drenched in Edward-smell, and I wanted to roll around naked on the floor.

"Um, yeah, this is my room."

He stood in the doorway at the other end of the bathroom, his hands in his pockets. I moved past him, stopping in the center of the large, open room as I looked around curiously. It was gold, black, and cream, comforting and elegant, much like him. There was a balcony here as well, but overlooking the backyard instead of the front like the one in Emmett's room. He had a desk and cabinets set along one wall, his laptop open on the surface. A supple leather sofa and chairs were arranged in a small but inviting seating area. Almost one entire wall was dedicated to row upon row of books, CDs, and another intricate stereo system. A large flatscreen TV was mounted on another wall. And then, there was no place else to look but the bed. It was enormous and decadent, and I just wanted to throw myself into the plush comforter and pillows and wallow in sensory overload. I tore my eyes from it, swallowing, and walked over to the heavy French doors that led out onto the balcony.

"This is…amazing," I murmured, hugging my arms around my waist. I glanced up at him. He was standing a few feet away, watching me with a nervous, deprecating smirk and shrugged one shoulder like he did when he was anxious. "What?"

He did the shrug-thing again and came to me, putting his arms around and over mine, resting his chin on top of my head. "I'm glad you came tonight."

"Me, too. This is all…" I gestured with one hand "…absolutely beautiful. I may never leave."

He laughed, and I could feel the tension drain from him. Was he worried I would judge him or freak out or something? He was acting kind of weird.

"So." I glanced up at him. "It's very…private, huh?"

"Private," he agreed, quirking a brow. "Yeah."

I turned in his arms. Lifting mine to wrap around his neck, I pressed against him lightly and he smiled down at me, linking his hands around my waist.

"Hi," I said softly.

"Hi," he returned, and kissed me.

We stood together, exploring and testing each other's mouths, angling, pressing, enjoying what made each other gasp and moan. His eyes rolled back when I tugged on his hair at the nape of his neck, and I shuddered when he nibbled hard on my lower lip. He had started moving me back toward the long sofa when Esme's voice broke through our heated little session.

"Edward? Your dad's home. We'll be sitting down to eat in a few minutes."

I broke away from him in shock, panting and staring into his flushed face. "Eeek," I squeaked, and he stared at me for a second or two before bursting out in laughter. "Was that your mother?" I spun to look at the door.

"It's the intercom," he chuckled, moving toward his bed. He pressed a button on a panel near the nightstand. "Okay, mom, we'll be down."

I just stared. An intercom system. Well, of course, there was no way he could hear anyone from three floors below us. I just shook my head. I'd handled everything else up to this point, but it was kind of one crazy thing too many.

"What?" he asked with his beautiful half-smile widening at my dazed expression.

"It's…it's just a lot to take in. It's like a different world." I shook my head as he came to me and took my hand, placing a soft kiss on my mouth.

"It's not that big of a deal, Bella." He led me out of the room and back to the stairs.

"Any other surprises?" I asked half-jokingly.

"Well," he ran his hand through his hair as we descended slowly, which I was sure was mostly for my benefit. "You haven't seen the Jacuzzi, or the game room downstairs in the basement. Or the garage," he added thoughtfully.

"Maybe we should save all that for another day." If I got him anywhere near a Jacuzzi I couldn't be responsible for my actions. I'd just met his parents, and I wouldn't want to cause a scene by molesting their son in front of them. Yeah, that had better wait until we were here alone someday, just in case.

We made it to the foyer, me in one piece with no abrasions or broken bones. If I was going to spend any time here with him I'd have to practice my safety-first stair climbing. He let go of my hand as we entered the kitchen, but stayed close to my side, his arm touching and bumping mine. I saw Dr. Cullen smiling down at Esme, who he held loosely wrapped in his arms as they chuckled about something. He looked up and stepped away, his hands trailing down her arms. It was nice to see such unconscious and easy affection. I could see where Edward got his touchy-feely-ness from.

Dr. Cullen came over to us with a bright, friendly smile and extended his hand.

"Dad, this is Bella. Bella, this is my dad, Carlisle."

"Hello, Dr. Cullen." I shook his hand and blushed – of course. I wasn't sure if I should acknowledge our professional relationship – the fact that I had seen him a number of times before at the hospital when he treated me for my various wounds and issues with terminal clumsiness.

"Hello, Bella. It's nice to see you under pleasant circumstances." I smiled at him thankfully for bridging that awkwardness. "So, this is what all the sappy smiling and mooning around like an actual teenager has been about, huh?" He beamed at Edward, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

Edward ducked away, his cheeks red, and slapped at his dad's hand with a sheepish grin. "Great, Dad, thanks," he muttered.

I smiled, glad I wasn't the only one with a dad who thought he was a comedian.

"Carlisle, leave the boy alone," Esme admonished him. She poured a fragrant sauce over a bowl of wide, flat noodles and vegetables as Edward wandered over to her, sniffing appreciatively.

She raised a brow and handed him a large wooden bowl filled with salad fixings, motioning for him to bring it to the table. She expertly tossed the noodles and then spun to look at me.

"You aren't allergic to peanuts are you? This is a peanut sauce. I didn't think to ask."

"No," I shook my head, assuring her.

She sighed in relief. "You just never know anymore." She handed Edward a bread basket, and I moved to help. "Sit," she said to both Dr. Cullen and me, and we did.

After dinner – which had been delicious – I helped Esme with the dishes despite her protests while Edward ran up to his room to get his biology book and materials. Dr. Cullen had offered us the use of his study which was filled with all kinds of textbooks. Who needed a public library? We settled in the room, which was located at the front corner of the house and was attached to the master suite through a large bathroom I could see through the doorway. Edward closed the numerous wooden blinds on the windows and settled into Dr. Cullen's leather chair behind the large, heavy desk. He peered at me thoughtfully, pressing his fingertips together over the bridge of his nose.

"So, Ms. Swan, what brings you here this evening?" he teased.

I rolled my eyes and grinned. "The sad thing is you look good behind that desk." Yeah, where didn't he look good? "All serious and shit. You'd make a great doctor, you know."

He laughed, snorting a little, and leaned forward. "God help us all."

"No, really." I tilted my head at him, considering. "You're smart, easy with people, charming." He sat up and preened. I laughed at his antics. "I think you'd be a very good doctor."

"Thanks." He eyed me speculatively over the desk, one long finger tracing a circular pattern on the polished wood. My eyes were involuntarily drawn to the slow, stroking motion, and I swallowed. "So," he said softly, his voice deep and purr-smooth. "Wanna help me practice? Play doctor?"

Oh hells yes…but my eyes flickered to the open door. He arched a thick brow when I looked back at him, and I bit my lip. His eyes darkened and he leaned forward a little more. Oh yeah, I wanted to play doctor with him – here on the desk, on that leather couch in his room, on the black lacquered piano bench upstairs, on the shiny granite counters in the kitchen, on the hood of the Volvo – _whoa_. I shook my head, but he took it for a denial of his words. With a soft growl he reached out and grabbed the ends of my hair on one side with his hand, pulling me across the desk to him. I was instantly, totally turned on, and he slammed his mouth onto mine. His lips parted almost immediately as his tongue slid, soft and insidious, behind my lips. My eyes fluttered shut. The wet heat felt so good. He tasted so good. He smelled even better. And, sweet Jesus, the boy knew how to kiss.

He finally settled back in the chair, our lips pulling apart with a nice squelching smack that was somehow a turn-on itself. I licked my lips, wanting to hold on to the taste of him, and he shot out of his seat. His green eyes glowed with intensity as he pulled me almost on top of the heavy desk, tipping my head deliberately before taking my mouth with his once again. I whimpered and grabbed hold, returning the hard kiss with equal fervor. I didn't think I would ever get over the exquisite experience of his lips, tongue, and mouth on mine. I absorbed him, his feel and his scent, my mouth working frantically to keep up and to get enough. It was a battle I was willing to wage forever. Eventually I became aware of the edge of the wooden desk digging painfully into my stomach as I leaned toward him. I debated just crawling up on the surface and pulling him with me, but just as my leg started to rise I remembered we were in his father's study and his parents were just down the hall. I fell back with a gasp and opened my eyes to see him leaning over the desk, still straining toward me, panting and gripping the edge of the wood in both hands.

"Come back," he gritted, his eyes meeting mine. I found myself taking a step forward and leaning toward him before I shook off his incredible lure.

"Your parents," I hissed, reluctantly sitting back in my chair and softly rubbing my mouth.

He blew out a breath, running his hand through the wild hair at his temple. "Christ, right, my parents." He smiled lopsidedly at me and sat with a thump. "Jesus, I want you."

I blushed—thrilled, scared, and delighted at his words. I bent my head and let my hair cover my burning face. He let out a low, strained chuckle, and I raised my eyes to look at him. He scrubbed a hand over his cheeks, smiling ruefully at me.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be so blunt, but…Bella, you feel amazing to me." He blew out another breath. "Wow."

I was absolutely delighted I could do this to him, this beautiful creature. I was beyond amazed that he could feel the same way I did when we touched. It was like an explosion, a crazy, intense, mind-blowing experience. I opened my mouth to tell him, but was interrupted by a soft knock on the doorframe. My head whipped around to see Carlisle standing in the doorway, and Edward quickly rolled his chair farther under the desk, hiding his lap. I blushed again, and Carlisle's knowing gaze took in our flushed and guilty faces.

"Just checking to see if you needed anything – a drink, help finding a book, advice, a chaperone…" his voice trailed off suggestively, and Edward rolled his eyes.

"Thanks, Dad, but we're fine. I'll let you know if we need anything."

"Okay." Carlisle arched a well-shaped brow at his son, tapping the wood of the doorframe before leaving us alone once again.

"Right, fine, where were we?" Edward shook his head briskly and moved the materials around on the desk.

I blushed, remembering exactly where we had been, and he groaned.

"You're going to be the death of me," he said, his stern look spoiled by the softness of his tone. "Study. Now."

I nodded, biting my lip, and we opened our books.

* * *

**Next chapter, Bella takes one for the team...**

**This is what I had been waiting for, fantasizing about, since I first spotted him in the hallway at school back in ninth grade. It was beyond anything I could have possibly imagined...Edward Cullen was lying half-naked on my bed.**


	16. Chapter 16: Stick Handling

**Stephenie Meyer own Twilight and all characters. Thanks for letting me play with them.**

**My betas Sarahsumbrella and silentnc - thank you for all of your help and support.**

**Citrus, ladies and gentlemen. There's going to be a more in future chapters. You have been warned if you're under the age of consent. Otherwise - enjoy!**

* * *

**CHAPTER 16: Stick Handling**

The next weeks were filled with Edward, at school and at home, both his and mine. We went out with Jasper and Alice, and Angela and Ben, and all together, but mostly it was just the two of us. I couldn't get enough of him. It physically hurt when we were apart, and the anxiety and fretfulness only eased when I was with him. I was completely and totally addicted. The only thing that made it seem okay was that he somehow felt the same. We were inseparable, and I reveled in him.

Alice wept tears of joy when I asked her to go shopping with me in Port Angeles. She was inconsolable with delight when I told her I wanted to update my make-up supply. When we went to a cute little lingerie boutique I had to pick her up off of the floor, weeping. It got tedious. Several panty and bra sets, negligees, stockings, garters, and filmy PJ sets later, we finally left the store. I was much poorer, embarrassed, thrilled, and anxious.

"He's going to wet himself," Alice assured me, peering into the bags, quite pleased with herself. "I wish I could be there."

"Alice!" I admonished in mortified delight.

"Well, not _there_, there, but I really wish I could see his face when he sees you in one of these. Any way you could take a picture? No?"

I shook my head vigorously. She sighed in dramatic disappointment. When we finally got home she showed me how to properly use the make-up items that I'd purchased, and I was thankful she understood my need for a simple, natural routine. We'd purchased powdered mineral makeup, which she explained I just had to brush on and it gave me a soft, natural glow. I had to admit, after applying light color to my cheeks and eyelids, and a swipe of mascara to my lashes, I looked… pretty. Natural. Happy. It was perfect.

The weeks flew by with Edward and me together as much as we could manage. The first time he played the piano for me…well. I sat there, enraptured, impressed, awed as his fingers flew over the keys, creating the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard. It was such a study of contrasts, his big, muscled body curved over the delicate keys, his calloused and rough fingers creating a lilting and lovely melody. I realized again what a complication he was – beautiful and bright, earthy and conflicted, capable but as confused and uncertain as the rest of us. He was a complicated, wonderful boy, and he was – somehow – mine.

I experienced so many other firsts with him, and each was its own precious memory and experience. The first time he kissed me in front of his parents. Our first fight and our first make-up marathon. The first time I saw him without his shirt was a religious experience, and I didn't know if I would pass out or orgasm on the spot. The first time he saw the pretty blue bra that I had purchased with him in mind. And the black one with red bows. And the white lace one. And…well, all of them, actually. The first time he touched my breasts – both over and under my shirt – during our frequent and heavy make-out sessions. The first time I touched him, had him overflow my palm with hardness and heat, and blurted out the question that had been on my mind since the first time I'd felt it against me. I'd wanted to know what he called it – penis was just such a weird and clinical word, after all—which led to the first time I heard him say "cock" in front of me. Holy hell. I'm pretty sure I fainted a little.

I started to truly feel secure in my place with him. A lot had to do with my growing confidence in myself, and a lot of that had to do with him. He wanted me with him. He made that evident with his every action. And he just plain wanted me. He made that pretty clear, as well.

We'd been doing a dance around Charlie's rules of having "a boy" over when he wasn't home. Charlie had decreed that Edward could be there when he wasn't around, but for no more than two hours and not in my bedroom. It wasn't like he couldn't defile me in less than two hours, or anywhere else in the house other than my room, but we nodded and agreed and grinned at each other. It made Charlie feel better.

A week before Thanksgiving, Edward brought me home after school as had become our routine. It was raining, of course. When we got to my house he parked and got out of the Volvo like he always did, but caught me around the waist as I dashed up the sidewalk to the door.

"What are you doing?" I gasped, struggling in his hold in an attempt to get to the dry porch.

"I want to kiss you in the rain," he said with a grin, pulling me close and lowering his head.

I laughed, trying to get away and out of the wet. "You've kissed me in the rain lots of times. It's always fricking raining. Edward, c'mon, I'm soaked!"

"Just shut up, will you?" He covered my mouth with his, and the contrast of the cold rain and his hot skin made me shiver. I went limp and kissed him back. _Gah_.

I didn't realize how wet we were until he came up for air. Rivulets of water dripped off the spikes of his unruly hair and trickled across the chiseled planes of his face.

"Come on," I said, wiping futilely at them. My fingertips lingered on his pale skin. "Let's continue this inside."

He followed me in the house, and we stood in the entry hall as we shrugged out of our jackets. He grimaced as he pulled the soaked collar of his button shirt away from his neck. He finally just shrugged out of it, leaving him in a grey T-shirt that was dark with rain around the neck and across his shoulders.

"Ugh," he said, shaking his head like a dog and splattering water droplets everywhere.

I was no better. I could feel water dripping off of my hair and down my back, making my own shirt cling clammily to my skin. "We need towels," I decided, lifting my hair off my neck and trying to wring it out a bit. "They're in the upstairs bathroom."

He followed me up the stairs and wiggled his eyebrows villainously when I led him into my room.

"Oooh, the forbidden bedroom," he intoned, dropping down on my bed.

I rolled my eyes and dashed into the bathroom to grab a couple of towels. I threw one over my sopping hair as I walked back into my room, tossing the other to him. I watched as he rubbed his face and scrubbed it through his own hair a couple of times, making it stand up in all directions and then fall into its usual rumpled mess. He cocked a dark brow at me and gestured to the towel draped over my head.

"Can I?"

"Can you…what?" I looked at him in confusion.

He patted the space on the bed next to him. "Dry your hair."

I swallowed, my eyes taking in the expression on his face and the way his grey T-shirt was darkened with damp across his shoulders and upper chest. I could easily make out the swells of his defined pectorals, and his nipples poked through the material in reaction to the damp and cold. I instinctively hunched my shoulders and hoped mine weren't in the same condition. Glancing down, I realized it was a futile wish.

His gaze intensified, and my mouth went dry before flooding with saliva. Yes, I was drooling. "O-okay," I stuttered, moving toward him slowly. His smile turned predatory.

He slid back on the bed and spread his legs, guiding me to sit between his knees facing away from him. I settled nervously as his warm hands gently pressed the towel to my head. I felt him sweep along the wet strands, dragging the towel down in slow strokes only to start over again at the top.

"So pretty," he murmured, his breath whispering against my ear. I shivered. "Cold?" he asked softly, and I could hear the amusement in his voice.

"M-maybe. A little."

"Hmm." The vibration trembled along my skin.

I felt his cool lips and then hot tongue touch the juncture of my neck and shoulder, and the shiver turned into a shudder. The wet heat trailed along my exposed skin, and I moaned, my head falling to the side to give him better access. The towel fell to the floor at my feet as his large hands grasped my waist, rubbing up and down before crossing over my stomach on top of the button to my jeans. My hands flew to cover his and I pressed them firmly into my belly, trying to assuage the ache.

"Edward," I moaned as the tip of his tongue traced along the tendon of my neck and swept the outer rim of my ear. His breath was rapid and harsh, and I could feel the rise and fall of his chest against my back. His fingers swept the damp hair back over my shoulder as he turned me to face him, moving farther back on the bed to make room.

I moved to sit up on my knees and we stared at each other. The only sounds in the room were the clacking of the rain on the windowpane and our panting breaths. I was well aware we were alone in the dark, quiet house, in my bedroom, on my bed. My eyes drifted down his body as he leaned back on his elbows, and I licked my lips. He groaned.

"Bella…" He sat up and reached for me, taking my chin in his fingers to kiss me. His mouth was soft, warm, and wet as he sucked at the seam of my lips, encouraging my tongue. I flicked it along the tip of his and he groaned again, deep in his chest. The sound made me shiver. He pulled away, his eyes searching mine.

Slowly, he reached over his head, fisting his hand in the back of the wet grey T-shirt. It clung to him as he pulled it off with one hand in a smooth, slow tug. I watched in rapt fascination as the rising hem exposed ridges and swells of muscle, and the breath left me as he flung it on the floor. I had no idea where it landed. I didn't care. I couldn't take my eyes off the masculine perfection in front of me. His body was amazing—big, solid, and sleek with hard, defined muscles and smooth, pale skin. This is what I had been waiting for, fantasizing about, since I first spotted him in the hallway of school back in ninth grade, and it was beyond anything I could have possibly imagined. I was absolutely hypnotized. Edward Cullen was lying half-naked on my bed.

He leaned back on one hand, the other going again to my waist, and I greedily drank in the play and shift of muscle across his shoulders and chest. I'd seen him without a shirt before, but not like this. Not on my bed, alone in the house with hours of parent-free time ahead of us. My fingers reached out of their own volition to trace the arch of flesh that formed one pectoral, brushing across the sprinkling of hair that was shades darker than that on his head. My fingertip brushed a round, hardened nipple in passing, and it was his turn to shiver. I was delighted that he reacted to my touch that way. I followed the trail of hair down across the magnificent ridges that banded his stomach, tracing along the top of his jeans before rising back up to the shelf of muscle that ran inside of his hipbone and up his side to his shoulder. It was hard and in prominent relief as he tightened his hold on my waist.

"Jesus Christ, Edward," I murmured reverently, shaking my head slowly in disbelief. "You're _beautiful_."

He moved to sit up, but I placed the flat of my hand over his heart, holding him in place and feeling the rapid thump against my palm. "No," I said, my eyes flicking to his before being drawn back to the irresistible male display before me. "Stay still. Don't move." He settled back on his hands, arms straight, tense, and supporting his weight. His green eyes were heavy and dark as he watched me.

I couldn't decide where to start feasting. I cupped the mass of his pectorals in each hand, his coppery male nipples poking me slightly in the palms. He closed his eyes and rolled his head back with a soft groan, the sound making me clench down on a spasm between my legs. Christ, he was gorgeous. I slid my hands down to his stomach and pressed my mouth to his skin, and I _licked_. His sweet, warm taste exploded on my tongue. I lapped across his chest, humming in pleasure at the texture and flavor of him, of the feel of him under my mouth. My fingers stroked through the dark hair that spread between his flat male nipples as I rose up above him on my knees, moving up to caress his hard shoulders as he lifted his face to mine.

"Bella," he said in a rough voice, reaching for the hem of my shirt. We stared at each other as he slowly lifted it, and I raised my arms over my head, helping to pull it completely off when he couldn't reach any farther. He pressed his mouth to the exposed skin of my stomach, wrapping his arms around my waist before taking a deep breath and looking up at me. I smiled with pleasure as he ran the rough skin of his palms up my sides to my breasts with a slow, sure touch. He cupped them, weighing and shaping, stroking and caressing. My head rolled back, going limp from the remarkable feeling. His fingers came together over each tip and he gave them a gentle pinch, causing a moan to rise from the depths of my belly. He tugged gently, and I bent so that the scorching heat of his mouth covered the tip of my left breast over the thin lace of my bra. I cried out, wrapping my arms around his head and holding him close. I looked down and my muscles clenched again at the sight of his bronze head bent to me, his eyes closed and mouth moving in slow, lazy circles.

"Oh, yes," I breathed, and his hands flew up to the front closure of my bra. He had it undone in seconds and peeled it away to the sides, his mouth instantly on my bare, sensitive flesh. I convulsed with a sharp gasp, and his hands came around to support me as he lowered me to the bed. He followed me down, his lips lifting to move to my other breast. I buried my hands in his hair and held on, arching my back, pushing myself further into his mouth. I was panting and writhing with the intense stimulation until he finally came up for air.

"Bella," he whispered, his eyes on my breasts and his fingers gently tracing across the translucent flesh. I felt his breath gusting across the wet trails he had left along my skin. "God," he groaned, leaning up to kiss me deeply.

I held his face in my hands and rolled us over so I was laying half across his upper body. I nipped his lower lip and his chin before I wriggled down to give his chest and stomach my full attention. I saw his fist clench at his side out of the corner of my eye as I ran my tongue down the center of his chest to that amazing eight pack, where I took my time nipping and licking at the hard, unyielding flesh. I swirled around his navel, causing him to tense and flinch before I paused at his flat belly, just above the metal button of his jeans. There was a very long, rather large, and definitely hard bulge lifting the placket. I rested my chin on it, breathing heavily, and he flinched again. My finger tapped the top button before curling around it, moving to flick it open. He reached desperately for my arms, sitting up and causing all those glorious muscles to ripple and tighten.

"Bella, shit, wait." He was panting heavily and his eyes were dark and at half-mast.

I froze. Had I done something wrong? He clasped my hands in his and squeezed, shutting his eyes and bringing them to his forehead. "Christ, that feels so good, you have no idea, but…Bella." He opened his eyes, and I was kind of proud to notice they flickered down to my bare breasts before coming determinedly back to meet mine. "I don't have…I'm sure you don't have…any condoms?"

I just stared. Condoms? Here? Shit. _Shitshitshit_. "Um, no. Don't you?"

He heaved a sigh, shaking his head slowly with a small smile. "No."

I bit my lip. I reached out to touch his stomach wistfully. "Don't boys…usually? I mean, in your wallet or something?"

He gave me an amused look. "Sometimes," he admitted. "But I haven't needed any in a while, and…well…I guess I just didn't think…"

His voice trailed off, and I didn't know whether to be glad he hadn't needed one in the recent past or be pissed he didn't think he'd need one in the near future. Bah. Moot point. I reached for the button on his jeans again.

"Edward, I've had a shot."

His hands held mine at his waist. "A shot?" he questioned, frowning. "A shot of what?"

I rolled my eyes, feeling my cheeks going red. "Birth control. I, uh, have really bad…pains. This way, I only have a couple of, you know, periods a year." God, were we really having this discussion? I guess we had to, but how could it be more embarrassing than having actual sex? "And…uh…I've never done this before, so I don't have any – diseases? – or anything…" I let my voice fade. I was fairly certain he had experience, that he'd had sex before, but I was sure he would say the same about being disease free…

He sighed, reaching out for me and hugging me to his bare chest. I snuggled for a second before my tongue betrayed me and snuck out for another taste. He gently pressed my head closer to him.

"Bella, I have to tell you something," he began ominously, and my tongue froze. I lifted my head to look into his face.

"That doesn't sound good," I said cautiously. My stomach did a free-fall.

"It's nothing bad, not really," he assured me, giving me a soft kiss before placing my cheek against his heart, and I sighed, hugging my arms around his waist. His bare skin was so smooth and soft, and so very close to my mouth. "It's just, you should know…I'm glad you're on birth control, but I haven't – I won't – ever have sex, make love, without a condom."

"Never?" I breathed, my mind whirling. _Ever?_ Well, damn.

He sighed again. "Let me explain, okay? Last year, well, I went out on a date or two with this girl. Nothing serious, we just went to lunch and to a movie a couple of times." He hugged me. "It was very casual, for me at least, she was cute and really nice, but there was just no spark."

I stilled at his words. It was weird to hear him talk about seeing someone else while I was sitting half-naked in his lap, even though I knew it was long before he had met me. I knew he had dated before – who could resist him? – but it was still difficult to hear.

"Bella?" he whispered against the top of my head, and I nodded, squeezing his waist, encouraging him to continue.

"I broke it off after those first couple of dates. I figured no harm, no foul. We hadn't established a relationship or anything, it was very casual and I thought she felt the same way I did. I enjoyed talking to her but that was about it." He paused, and I could hear his heartbeat pick up slightly. "About a month later she showed up at the hospital, in the ER, to see my dad." I frowned when he paused again, wondering what had happened to her that she needed the ER and Dr. Cullen. "She, uh, she told him she was…pregnant."

The silence was thick and heavy. I pushed away from him to lean back and see his face. It was tense and worried.

"Pregnant?" I whispered, shock spreading through me.

He nodded miserably. "Yeah. I don't know what she was thinking." He chuckled mirthlessly. "I mean, my dad is a doctor. They have tests, and she knew it wasn't true, but…it just shows how messed up she was. I had no idea." He shook his head. "No idea she was so messed up in the head. Bella, I never even held her hand, let alone kissed her or…slept with her." His eyes searched my face, asking me to believe him. "I swear to you, it was a huge shock when Dad came home that night and sat me down in his study. Thank God he believed me, even before the test results came back." He looked down at where his hands were clenched in his lap. "But the whole deal, the whole experience…well, it really made an impression on me." His mouth twisted. "As you can imagine. I learned my lesson pretty fucking well—to be responsible, to never be put in that position again if I can help it. Not that I would like to think I would ever take the risk anyway – pregnancy, the stuff you can catch, all that – but it really made it easy to promise myself I wouldn't."

He took another deep breath and forced his eyes to mine. His head tipped and he glanced away sheepishly. "So, I hope you understand…I hope…I'm sorry, but…"

I reached out and placed my hand over his clenched fist. No wonder he had told Jasper he was "off girls" before he met me – it wasn't just because of Tanya. I sat for a second, absorbing what he had told me, holding my arms down in front of my bare breasts. I realized with his looks and popularity, girls were probably throwing themselves at him from a very young age. I was sorry he'd gone through that and learned there were people out there that just couldn't be trusted. I was a cop's daughter, so it was a lesson my own father had impressed upon me. It was unfortunately a sad loss of innocence. He was such a good person, and those girls had only wanted to use him for their own selfish purposes. They hadn't cared about _him_. I took a deep breath and met his gaze.

"I do understand, Edward. I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" he rasped, reaching up to rub my shoulders. "What are you sorry for?"

I shrugged and bit my lip. "That she did that to you. That she lied. That you had to go through all of that." I leaned forward and kissed him gently. "Who was she?" I asked, the curiosity getting the better of me. He sighed, and I lowered my gaze. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business, really."

"Bree," he said softly after a moment. "Her name is Bree Tanner. I don't see her, or talk to her if I do anymore, obviously."

I had a quick mental image of a pretty, dark haired girl. I think she was a year younger than we were. "Oh," I whispered. "Thank you." I thought for a second. "But you have, haven't you?" I asked softly.

He pulled away slightly to look down into my face. "What? No, I haven't talked to her since the night she showed up at the hospital."

"No, not that." I paused. "I mean, you've had…sex before, right?" My voice had trailed off to something small and low at the end.

He was quiet and still. I thought he wouldn't answer. His arms tightened slowly around me, and I tucked my head under his chin. "Yeah," he said softly, his body tense. "Yeah, I have."

I wanted to ask. I wanted to demand to know every who, what, when, where, and how. I wanted…him. I was sitting on his lap, our bare skin rubbing and brushing and…The rest could wait. I took a deep breath, gathered my courage, and lifted my head to meet his beautiful eyes. "I haven't." I said it plain, just in case he hadn't been paying attention earlier.

"I know," he said, looking at me tenderly. He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, his fingers stroking my cheek. I shifted to sit up and lean toward him.

His mouth touched mine, and both of his hands came up to hold my face as he deepened the kiss, his mouth moving slowly and then with more force. He drew away slightly, resting his forehead against mine.

"I thought you'd run screaming," he admitted in a low voice. "I was so scared to tell you, I thought for sure…" he shook his head, rolling his forehead on mine before kissing me again. "You always surprise me, Bella."

I leaned back and dropped my arms to my sides. "Good." I smiled smugly to myself as his eyes dropped to my chest and a flush rose in his cheeks. "Because, you know, there are other things we can do that don't require condoms, Edward."

"Uh…"

"Right?" I smiled at him. "I mean, I know you have more experience than I do," and let's just shove that thought away to obsess over later… "But, I mean, I've heard a few things…"

"Really?" His grin was suddenly knowing and smug. "Like what?"

"Like…huh?" Oh shit, I think he just called my bluff.

"Like what, Bella?" His voice was oiled silk as he ran his hands up my arms, over my shoulders, and cupped my breasts. "What kind of things have you heard about?"

"Um.." I closed my eyes and swayed as he stroked my nipples. The bed shifted as he moved closer to me, and I gasped as I felt his hot mouth close over the tip of one breast. He flicked the nipple with his tongue before moving to the other and drawing it fully into his mouth, sucking hot and wet and warm. I moaned and grabbed his ears.

"Did you hear about this?" he murmured against my skin before his teeth bit down, carefully but firmly, on the sensitive, erect bud. "Or this?" His tongue swirled rapidly before he sucked hard, the almost painful pressure causing a hot wire of pleasure to shoot down between my legs. I sagged against him and he lowered me to the bed, bracing his weight over me on one arm while his hand stroked and teased my other breast. I ran my hands over the smooth, tense muscles of his shoulders, gripping him until my fingers turned white, arching against him. It felt so good, and I was aware of a wet tingling between my thighs that grew more and more desperate with every pull of his lips. I pressed my hips instinctively toward him, crying out at the thrilling sensation when I rubbed the ache against his hard thigh.

He moaned, and I cracked my eyes open to look at his face. Another electrical zing shot through me when I saw his mouth on my breast, lean cheeks hollowed and sucking, his own eyes shut. He eased slightly to one side, trailing his hand down my side, caressing bare flesh before sliding across my stomach to the button of my jeans. I made an inarticulate sound of pleasure as he wrestled it free and lowered the zipper, pushing my pelvis up at him in encouragement. His talented fingers parted my jeans and dipped to the elastic band of my panties. He paused, releasing my breast with a soft popping sound and lifting up slightly to stare down into my face. He was silent, but his eyes bored into mine as he dipped his hand lower, brushing against the soft, secret place between my legs. I met his gaze and let my soul fly, rolling my pelvis up into his palm so the tips of his fingers touched the wetness at the very heart of me. The green of his eyes blazed and he moaned, his fingers searching my almost completely naked sex.

"Fuck, Bella." His voice was unsteady. In the far recesses of my mind I made a note to not beat the crap out of Alice next time she took me to get waxed. And to apologize for doing so the last time.

His breath released in a harsh gasps as he explored my soft, intimate flesh. He pushed his hand lower, his fingers entering me. I threw my head back at the exquisite sensation and shifted underneath him, silently begging for more. He slid quickly down the bed along my side, removing his fingers, and I whined in frustration. My jeans and lace panties were swiftly peeled down my legs to fall on the floor. His eyes never left my now naked form as he slid back up beside me, his hand resting low on my belly. I started to feel self-conscious at being laid bare before him, but his heated, enthralled expression turned my embarrassment into a rush of giddiness as he leaned over to kiss me reverently. I was supremely conscious of the heavy, hot weight of his palm resting between my hipbones, and as his kiss grew deeper and more intimate I craved his touch a bit lower. I gripped his arms and pulled myself up slightly, trying to maneuver his hand on my body where I needed it. His kiss gentled and he looked into my eyes once again as his large hand covered the ache between my legs, his fingers brushing right where it was most intense, stroking and spreading the dampness. He didn't say a word, just touched, and my heart and body swelled.

One long finger worked its way inside me and I gasped, arching and clutching him as I absorbed the burning, incredible sensation. He rubbed slowly back and forth, the motion becoming easier as I adjusted and became more wet for him. Another finger joined the first, and his head dipped to place soft kisses on my mouth. Tension poured through me as he continued to stroke, twisting and curling his fingers, rhythmically pressing the heel of his hand against the exact spot where I ached. I practically shot off the bed, grabbing his elbow, moaning, pulling his arm and hand tighter against me and further into me. As if this was a signal, he began pumping harder, deeper, faster. Intense and exhilarating sensations ripped through my body and I arched up, pressing my head back into the pillow, gasping in harsh sobs.

"Oh, oh, oh…!"

"That's it," his soft voice crooned in my ear, sending more uncontrollable shudders through me. "Let go, Bella. You're coming. You're coming for me. Let go."

I cried out when blazing, shocking convulsions rocked me, digging my nails into his shoulders as the exquisite pressure controlled my body, crashing through me and leaving me limp, winded, and sated in his arms. Breath heaved in and out of my lungs as I became aware of his mouth softly brushing my temple, the fingers of his other hand gently stoking the sweat-dampened hair off my skin. His arms held me close and I blinked up at him, disoriented. When I could focus on his face, I saw that his mouth was curved in a faint smile, but his beautiful verdant eyes were tense around the corners. I reached up with a slightly shaky hand, brushing it along his jaw before I lost even that little bit of strength and let it fall limply to the bed. He kissed me tenderly, lying against me on his side, his hand brushing across my breast. I forced my eyes open once more, turning my head to meet his gaze.

"Holy…Edward, I…I never knew anything could feel so…that you could be so…" I knew I wasn't making sense, but I was completely overwhelmed. I turned slightly so I was lying facing him. "That was…Thank you."

He kissed me deeply, running his tongue along mine to take my mouth hard, expressing the depth of his emotion. I returned it with everything in me, raising my arms to twine around his neck, plastering my body all along his. I felt the roughness of his jeans against my bare skin and the hardness between his legs. His hips twitched away, and I opened my eyes in confusion as I tried to follow.

"Bella," he moaned, putting his hand on my waist and holding me still. "Don't."

"Why not?" I whispered in confusion, trying to find that hard ridge with my thighs.

"Because," he muttered against my lips as I pressed them to his once again. "That was…you were…so amazing. I'm right on the edge here, Bella."

"Good," I murmured, sweeping kisses along that fascinating jaw. I brought my hands down between us and grabbed the waistband of his jeans, pulling him closer.

He sucked in a breath, inadvertently giving my fingers more room between his hard, concave belly and the material of his jeans. Quick to take advantage, I slid my hand down along the thickening trail of hair to the warm, soft cotton stretched over his bulging erection. He hissed and tried to grab my hand, but I tightened my grip on him, and he ended up just pushing it harder against himself. He hissed again.

"Bella, Jesus…oh, God…"

His voice trailed off and his hand fell away as I stroked him over his underwear. As I reached the top of his waistband I dipped my hand behind the elastic and touched the bare, plump tip of his erection. It was soft, so soft, and yet pressed hard against my palm. I felt a slick of wetness and was momentarily surprised. I could make him wet, too?

"Bella," he tried again. "You don't have to…" But his hips thrust into my hand, and I smiled.

"Shut up, Cullen," I murmured teasingly, raising myself up over him, guiding him down to lie on his back.

I knelt between his parted knees and he watched me intently as I released his button fly, pop, pop, pop – God, why was that so fucking sexy?—and slid the jeans down his legs. I pulled them off, and then his white socks, dropping them on top of one another on the floor. I turned back and just gaped at him spread almost completely naked in front of me. It was a sight…there were no words.

"Bella, what -" he started to sit up, and I shook my head frantically, holding out my hand for him to stop. He gradually relaxed, settling back down, but his body was tense and his eyes were wide and questioning. I shook my head again.

"Just…give me a second." I could see the worry on his features. "Really, just let me…look."

The concern changed into a look of knowing, smug and satisfied. It didn't upset me—I had to give him his props as I greedily filled my eyes. His body was ripped and toned from his neck down to his ankles. His long, long legs and arms were roped with defined muscle, and of course I knew his chest and torso had planes and facets I'd never grow tired of exploring, touching…licking. A pair of black cotton boxer briefs covered him from low on his hipbones to his upper thigh, covering but in no way hiding the hard bulge of his erection. I could see his stomach fluttering unsteadily with his excited breaths, and the tip of him lifting the elastic. I licked my lips, reaching out for the waistband, and he moaned. I hesitated, my fingertips resting just over where his skin met the material, and he blinked at me in question.

"Is it okay?" I whispered huskily.

He moaned again, arching his head back as his hips pushed up. "God, yes."

I bit my lip and tugged on the boxer briefs. He hissed as the elastic band dragged across the sensitive head. I peeled them off his body, never taking my eyes off what they exposed as I pushed them down his legs and kicked them away once they cleared his feet. I bit my lip again and my eyes flew to his face as he groaned. I saw his fists clench and open convulsively at his sides before my gaze was drawn back to his swollen length. My eyes widened as it…moved…flexing upward of its own volition. I reached out to run my hand along the smooth, satiny flesh. My eyes were glued to his exposed groin and the breath hitched in and out of my lungs in quick pants.

I had never seen one in real life, but I was an avid reader and there was quite a lot written about men's erections. I figured he was, well…rather large. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised, given the size of his hands and feet, the length of those glorious fingers, but I thought that was just an old wives tale. _Thank_ _you Jesus for old wives, _I thought._ Thank you. Sincerely._ I felt the muscles of my pelvis twitch again at the sight, and the fluttering awareness made me quiver.

I reached out and I stroked.

His entire body convulsed, every muscle defining itself in sharp relief as he gave a strangled cry and thrust his hips up into my hand. I closed my fist around him, just below the flaring head, and then brought my other hand around to cover what my first couldn't. I caressed slowly, looking up in fascination to see his face. His eyes were squeezed shut and a grimace contorted his face, from pain, pleasure, I didn't know. I stroked a few more times, listening to him grunt and pant. The feel of his soft skin dragging against my fingers was captivating. I slowly brought one hand to my mouth to lick my palm before replacing it on him. His eyes flew open as he felt the dampness before drifting shut again, and he bit his lip in one of my familiar gestures.

Hmm. If licking my hand and putting it on him felt that good, what would licking him directly feel like? I imagined pretty damn excellent. I shivered as I thought of his mouth on me down there. I held the base of him firmly as I bent down and kissed the tip.

"Fuck!" he shouted, fisting his hands in the quilt. Every little—and not so little—muscle in his stomach tensed and tightened.

I smiled, pleased with his reaction. I stuck my tongue out to swirl around his plump head and taste the clear liquid that seeped out, and then slid him behind my lips. It wasn't that bad—smooth, soft skin, a steely hardness at the core. The texture and taste of him was fascinating. He groaned, long and low, shaking convulsively, and I took the first few inches into my mouth. The noises he made were, well, really turning me on—who knew he could be so vocal? I rubbed my tongue over him, taking as much of him as I could manage. I felt the tremors course through him, and I knew he was trying not to buck his hips harder into my mouth. I hummed, wanting him to, and he cried out again. Suddenly, in a quite impressive display, he half sat, lifting his upper body while trying to hold his lower as still as possible. His big hands stroked frantically over my hair.

"Bella, Bella, shit, I'm gonna come…"

I raised my hand and pushed on his chest, not stopping the movements of my lips and tongue. He resisted for a second and then collapsed back down on the bed with a muffled thump as I brought my head back up, sucking hard at him. He shouted and cried out, _finally_ thrusting, jerking, and I tried not to pull back or gag in reflex as his release filled my mouth. I held my breath and swallowed, lapping at him until he began to soften. It took a surprisingly long time. I laid my head on his thigh, smiling and rubbing my mouth idly with the back of my hand as I listened to his heaving breath slowly calm. The whole thing was kind of weird, and would have been gross if it wasn't so very intimate. I knew I'd be doing it again soon, though. The sounds he made while I was giving him pleasure were just…excellent.

After a short time I felt his hand tangle in the top of my hair and tug gently, silently asking me to move up alongside him. I did, squirming and pushing up with my legs until my head was settled on the pillow next to his. He smiled a happy, dazed, sleepy smile, his eyes heavy and deep, deep green. He slid his hand around my neck and slowly pulled me to him, placing soft kisses on my forehead, each cheekbone, and nose before sucking on my lower lip and sliding his tongue languidly into my mouth. We kissed like that for a long while, tenderly, lovingly, in no rush and with no other motive other than take pleasure in being able to do so. Our naked skin rubbed together soothingly, and his arms hugged me to his broad chest. I drifted to sleep with the comforting feel of his big, warm body next to mine and his fingers stroking my skin.

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**Join us next time, because I **_**know**_** this will make you curious:**

**My boyfriend had just unknowingly exhibited his rather generous package on national television.**


	17. Chapter 17: Screen

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and co. She's thankfully not against us messing around with her characters.**

**silentnc and Sarahsumbrella, thanks for taking the time to beta this mess.**

**Hey, join us on the Twilighted thread - there's some interesting photos and iponeddyou made some amazing blinkies and banners. http:/www . twilighted . net/forum/viewtopic . php?f=44&t=9652 Take out the spaces or click on the link in my profile.**

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**CHAPTER 17: Screen**

Once that initial sexual barrier was broken, there was no keeping my hands – and mouth – off him. I went down on him as often as I possibly could; I was addicted to the rough sounds and the dirty, thrilling words that came out of that elegant mouth when he was pre-orgasmic. The first time he went down on me I thought I was going to die of the pleasure. The feel of him moving between my legs, his clever lips, that agile tongue…he was a talented little shit.

Even Alice noticed, glaring at us in disgust as we snuck back into school after spending the lunch hour in his car. We were sweaty, disheveled and grinning like fools, our mouths slightly swollen – mine from being wrapped around him, his from biting his lip to keep quiet. Our hormones raged, and I couldn't wait to get him inside me.

He was being surprisingly difficult about it.

"Edward," I'd whined one afternoon as we lay gasping on my bed, lying half-naked next to each other. "Aren't you supposed to be the one trying to convince me to give it up?"

He laughed, still out of breath from our lengthy groping and make-out session. I growled playfully, rolling over and straddling his hips. I wrestled with the buttons on his jeans, and he slapped at my hands half-heartedly, distracted by my bare breasts. "C'mon," I breathed, grinding the sensitive spot between my legs on his obvious erection. "I want you."

"I want you, too," he said, leaning up to kiss me and wrestle my hands away. "So much. But I don't want to have to worry about your dad coming in with his gun blazing when I make you scream." He grinned, and I pouted.

"Big talk, Cullen," I said, grinding down harder and kissing him, tickling my tongue along the roof of his mouth where I knew he was sensitive.

He moaned, thrusting his hips up against me a couple of times before falling back onto the bed. "You're killing me, Bella."

"Good." I kissed my way across his chest, rubbing my face along the smooth, hard flesh and nipping at his ribs. I could never get enough of his bare torso.

He grabbed me around the waist and rolled us over so he was on top. I wrapped my legs around his hips and ran my hands admiringly, lingeringly, along the prominent muscles of his back and sides. "Bella." He kissed me, and then kissed me again. "I want you, I do, just not when your dad or my parents could walk in at any time. It's your first time, and it shouldn't be rushed, with one eye and ear on the door, or a quickie in the car."

"I appreciate it, Edward, I really do. But I just want you, all the time."

"I know," he soothed, running his mouth down my neck. He took my hand and pressed it between our bodies, moving it down to cover his hard shaft. "Me, too. But not when your dad is due home…" he lifted his head to squint at the clock "…in thirty minutes. You gotta give me something to work with."

"Gah." I let my head fall back, rubbing my hand up and down his length before reluctantly letting him go. "I hate it when I can't argue with you." I sighed, and he kissed my forehead with a strained smile. "Where's my damn bra?"

**-0-**

Thanksgiving came, and we were about to experience our first separation since we began seeing each other. I had a trip to Phoenix planned for some time to see my mom and to attend her and Phil's wedding, but they had gotten married a few weeks before in a small, quiet civil ceremony, just the two of them. She still wanted me to come down to celebrate and visit anyway, so my travel plans didn't change. Edward and his family had plans to visit Emmett in California, to go to one of his football games and spend a long weekend on the beach. For the first time in a long time, my insecurities reared their ugly head.

"But you'll be on the beach, all shirtless and cute," I protested weakly, clinging to him before he left for the airport.

He stroked my hair and chuckled. I could feel the reverberations in his chest against my cheek. "Does it look like I spend a lot of time on the beach?" he asked, indicating the pale, white skin of his arm. "Or that I could spend a lot of time on the beach and not end up in the Emergency Room with third degree sunburn?"

"But there will be girls there." I got to the crux of my insecurity. "Lots of girls. Pretty California girls, all hot in their bikinis and looking at you and…"

"But I won't be looking at them," he assured me, his lips pressing into my hair. "I'll be wishing you were with me, and worrying about those Phoenix boys. I hear they're pretty bold," he teased. "Besides, with Rosalie there, no girls will dare approach me or Emmett. She's tough."

"Good," I said, hugging him tighter. "I don't want to go."

"I don't want to go, either," he admitted. "I'll call you, all the time. You'll get sick of your phone ringing."

"No, I won't."

He smiled sadly and dropped his arms from around me. He took my hand and a step backward, holding on until he had to let go. "I'll see you in a couple of days," he whispered with a gloomy look, and I pressed myself back into his arms, kissing him and holding him and inhaling his warm, tangy, addictive scent.

"Bye," I whispered as I dropped back to my feet, watching as he turned and walked out of my house. I sighed, and went to finish my own packing.

It was the longest four days ever, but we did manage to talk on the phone quite a bit, to the point that my mom's eyebrows would rise with a knowing smirk every time my cell rang.

He sent me a photo taken from his phone. In it he stood on the beach next to a very large man, their arms thrown casually around each other's shoulders and grinning widely at the camera. Both of them were bare-chested with low slung board shorts hanging from their muscular hips. I recognized his dad's eyes in the other man's face, and knew it had to be his older brother, Emmett. Renee came up behind me, pausing to look over my shoulder at what had captured my attention.

"Holy…Bella, who are they?" She stood next to me, bending to examine the photo.

"That's Edward, Mom. And I'm pretty sure that's his older brother. That's who they went to visit in San Diego."

"Jesus," she breathed softly, looking at me with wide eyes. "I mean…sorry, but…I'm not dead, you know."

I laughed, and Phil sauntered up to see what we were whispering about. He looked at the photo on my phone and did a double take. "Who is that?" He was staring at the picture now, too.

"That's Bella's boyfriend and his brother." Renee gave me an amused look as I flipped through my menu to save the photo.

Phil goggled at me. "Your boyfriend's brother is _Emmett Cullen_?" he gasped.

"Um, yeah?"

Phil grabbed my shoulders, practically dancing with excitement. "He threw for over three hundred yards in the game last weekend. Four touchdowns, no interceptions. He's going to win the Heisman this year, no doubt about it, and probably the National Championship." He gave my shoulders an excited shake. "Emmett Freaking Cullen!"

I turned my head to throw my mom a frantic glance. She came up and took his hands off of my shoulders, running her hands down his arm soothingly. "Breathe, Phil, breathe."

"He's playing UCLA later today – big rivalry. It's on TV."

"It is?" I asked, intrigued. Edward hadn't said anything.

Phil nodded enthusiastically. I knew I'd be spending my Saturday afternoon watching college football with my new stepfather.

It was interesting to see someone I'd never met, but who was close to those I loved, on television. They showed plenty of close-ups of Emmett before the game, his helmet off and doing warm up stretches and throwing the football. Examining his features in the brief glimpses the TV gave me, I definitely recognized Carlisle's eyes and Esme's bone structure, but it looked so very different on him than Edward. I only knew a moderate amount about football, but even I could see that he was extremely talented and commanded the respect of the players on both sides of the field.

During the stadium shots I scanned the crowd whimsically for Edward, knowing my chances of seeing him in the tens of thousands of people would be slim. I started in excitement when they showed a quick close up of his parents, but I didn't see Edward sitting next to them. It was a tight shot, but I had hoped…they went to a commercial break, and when they returned the camera was once again focused on Carlisle and Esme. I grabbed my mom's arm in excitement, and as the camera panned in to show a close up of Esme's face I realized I recognized the jean clad hips standing next to her. The camera shot only showed him from just above the waist to right above his knees. He was obviously standing next to where his mom sat in the stands, and I squealed in excitement. "That's Edward – standing next to Esme, his mom!"

I watched closely, grinning, and saw those long fingered hands drop into the screen, sliding down his hipbones to hook his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans. I stilled as his fingers hung underneath, curved in over the top of each of his thighs, perfectly framing his crotch between his hands. The station brought up a graphic under Esme's face – "Emmett Cullen's parents" – as my eyes focused on those fingers, drumming slowly against his thighs, still framing the well-worn and now slightly gaping button fly. My mouth fell open and Renee grabbed my arm as he pushed his hands down, rocking his hips forward as he shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet. The gap on his fly widened slightly, showing silver buttons stretched over a healthy bulge.

The camera switched shots, and I just sat there with my mouth hanging open in shock. I slowly turned my head to meet my mother's identical gaze.

"Did they…did he just…Huh?"

She nodded her head frantically. I started laughing so hard tears rolled down my face, and after a stunned silence, she joined me.

My boyfriend had just unknowingly exhibited his rather generous package on national television.

Happy Thanksgiving, America.

I returned home to Forks Sunday afternoon. Edward's flight with his mom and dad wasn't due in until much later that night. I had known I wouldn't be able to see him until Monday morning, but I was still at a loss all Sunday evening. Charlie had spent the holiday at Sue Clearwater's house. I knew he was seeing her, even if he didn't admit it. He blushed and stammered and hid his face behind the newspaper when I asked him what was going on between the two of them. I smiled but didn't press the issue. It was just the way we were with each other.

It was almost midnight when my cell phone vibrated. I was lying in bed, trying to convince myself to go to sleep. I snatched it up, a wide grin spreading across my face when I saw his number come up on the screen. Edward.

"Hi," I said breathlessly, tossing the covers over my head – as if that would really help muffle my voice from Charlie.

"Hi." His voice was deep and warm and wonderful. I could feel it soothing my anxious nerves. "Sorry it's so late, but I wanted to say good night and let you know I was home."

"No," I whispered. "I'm glad you called. I was…I was thinking about you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I wish it wasn't so late. I want to see you. I missed you."

"I missed you, too." His voice was quiet. "No way you could sneak out?" I muffled a snort of amusement, which he echoed. "No, I guess not. That tree still outside your window?"

"Just like it has been for the past one hundred years," I drawled. "Charlie would kill you, though."

"Yeah." He sounded as dejected as I felt. "You okay? Made it home safe and sound?"

"No problem," I answered, feeling the constant yearning for him intensify. "I'm glad you called, Edward."

"I couldn't go to sleep without saying good night," he told me.

I heard Charlie's snores stutter and stop through the walls. "I gotta go," I said reluctantly. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow morning," he returned, just as softly.

It didn't take me as long as I thought to fall asleep, after all. I dreamed of green eyes and warm arms.

**-0-**

The weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas were a blur, a trying, tense blur. Edward had gone back to practices scheduled after school, which left us practically no free time together. Between our parents, practices, studying, school, friends…there were only short periods of time we managed unsatisfying, abbreviated intimate moments. His schedule was insane. Plus, his stupid ex-girlfriend had decided to start hanging around him a little too much, and it was beyond irritating.

Tanya was tall, pretty, and had beautiful strawberry blond hair, big china doll blue eyes, and a figure that wouldn't quit. I would have been intensely insecure if it wasn't for the fact that he had been so blunt and matter-of-fact about the reason for their breaking up last year, and that, well, _everyone_ lusted after him. _Grr_. The way he had told me kissing Tanya was like kissing his sister just wouldn't allow me to harbor any doubts he wasn't interested in her, although she certainly didn't leave any doubts she was still interested in him. His enthusiastic and frequent attentions to me – despite his schedule – helped enforce my confidence, but it didn't stop me from being irritated with her.

Irritated may have been a bit of an understatement. I found that underneath my usually shy and laid back demeanor there lurked a really nasty little monster that was roused when someone messed with my boy. Mess with me, mess with my friends, and I could certainly stand up for myself and what I believed in, but mess with my boy and I was finding I could be a little scary. My annoyance grew as she just kept pushing it, showing up at odd times during the day, batting her ridiculous eyelashes at him when she talked, and placing her hand on his arm, touching him. He was lucky he was completely, if politely, dismissive. He never really engaged her in conversation, stepping away at her touch, always walking away as soon as he could manage.

The day he didn't meet me after my class like he usually did, though, was the day I cracked. I wandered to his locker, wondering what was keeping him, only to see him hurriedly pulling books out while Tanya stood closer to him than she normally did, her stupid hand on his shoulder, fluttering her damn eyes like she was having a seizure. It was when she leaned in and pressed her breast against his arm that I lost it.

I marched up behind him, and my sudden presence made her step back as she stared at me, wide-eyed. At least it stopped the goddamned eyelash fluttering. I felt more than heard Edward start to say something, but I just shoved my bag into his arms before I spun to face Tanya. He caught it with an "ooof!" but my focus was on the red-headed bitch that pushed her parts on my boyfriend.

"You know what?" I gritted through my teeth, trying to hold on to the angry creature that threatened to let loose all kinds of bad in the school hallway. "You think you'd have more self-respect than that – trying to force yourself on someone who clearly isn't interested."

She smirked at me, and I saw red. "I don't hear him complaining."

"That's because he's too nice," I growled. "He doesn't want to embarrass you and tell you he thinks of you like he would his sister." Her eyes widened, flashing to his behind me before returning to mine. I drove my point home. "If you know what I mean."

Her eyes narrowed, but I knew the moment she understood. She took a couple of steps back before spinning and walking swiftly away from us, down the hall.

I stared after her, fury still pulsing through me, and I could feel his presence at my back. I didn't know if he was mad, relieved, scared, or what. I clenched my fists and heard him take a shuffling step toward me. "Um, Bella?"

"Next time, maybe you could just tell her you don't want to talk to her yourself, huh?" I bit out, not daring to look at him just yet.

I spun around, leaning up to grab the hair over his ear and yank his head down to mine. I kissed him, taking out my anger and frustration on his tasty little mouth before letting him go and grabbing my bag from his unresisting arms. I stormed down the hall, but not before I heard his awed and breathy, "Fuck, Bella, that was hot."

I tossed my head back and smiled. Take that, you little red-headed skank – and anyone else who was even thinking about getting their hooks in him. Who knew I had it in me? _Ha_. He was mine, and I was keeping him.

* * *

**You'll be relieved to know that Bella's inner musings haven't diminished at all...**

**Holy crap, I was having bondage fantasies in the middle of the hall at school.**


	18. Chapter 18: The Point

**Stephenie Meyer, not me.**

**Gracias to my betas silentnc and Sarahsumbrella.**

**TwiFicPimps have an excellent review of this little story - my sincere thanks to those ladies for their kind words. Go check them out at http:/twificpimps . blogspot . com Don't forget to remove the spaces!**

* * *

**CHAPTER 18: The Point**

The Friday before Christmas was the last day of school before Winter Break. Edward and I were both more than ready for some time alone. Christmas was Monday, and that meant all sorts of family obligations.

His brother, Emmett, hadn't won the Heisman trophy, but he was playing for the National Championship in the Rose Bowl on New Year's Day. The Cullens had plans to go to Pasadena to cheer him and the team on, and I was consciously avoiding the fact that he would be gone again so soon after our separation at Thanksgiving. It was too depressing to even think about. I'd be without my boy on New Year's Eve. I finally had someone I wanted to smooch on at midnight, and he'd be in California. That really sucked. I refused to talk about it.

"I know my schedule has been crazy, but I'll make it up to you," he promised as I accosted him at his locker. He had a game tonight, and was dressed in his nice pants and tie under his hockey jersey. I wanted to yank that conservative tie off and wrap it around his wrists, and then shove him back on my bed so that he lay there, helpless…Holy crap, I was having bondage fantasies in the middle of the hall at school. I broke out in a sweat.

"My mom and dad are going to Seattle overnight this weekend." He waggled his eyebrows, and I almost gasped, both mortified and thrilled. It was as if he was answering my lewd thoughts. "They're leaving Saturday afternoon, and going to the theater Saturday night. They're staying overnight, and picking Emmett and Rosalie up at the airport Sunday morning – they've decided to come home for a few days for Christmas. What's your dad's schedule like this weekend?"

I managed to bring myself back to reality, making a note to bring up that little tie-me-up, tie-me-down, make-me-bark-like-a-dog mental image at a better place and time. Maybe I'd add a couple of extra ties for both of his arms. And maybe his legs, too... Gah. _Stop_. "He'll be home. He's not working this weekend. Well," I amended. "He won't be home during the day. He's got plans to go fishing with his friend, but he'll be there at night. Sorry," I added at Edward's crestfallen look.

"I was kind of hoping you could stay the night." Faint color highlighted his sharp cheekbones as he stepped into me, wrapping his hands around my waist and fitting me neatly between his legs. I groaned, waiting breathlessly as he lowered his head to brush his mouth across mine. "My mom and dad are leaving late morning," he murmured, placing small kisses along my jaw and throat. "We'll have all day, at least."

"Mmm," I sighed, tipping my head to the side to better enjoy the soft, moist touches on my sensitive flesh.

"All right, you two," Alice's voice interrupted us. "No touchy-feely before lunch."

Edward gave a low, reluctant chuckle, the vibrations tingling along my neck just before he lifted his head. He smiled down at me, and I felt the familiar clutch between my legs. An entire day alone with him tomorrow? I couldn't wait. "Alice," he acknowledged, turning away from me and getting his books out of his locker.

"We're all going out tonight after Edward's game," she announced. "Movie in Port Angeles."

Edward looked at me, raising a brow, and I nodded. "Okay," he told her, even though she hadn't expressed it as a question. I sighed internally, mentally waving good-bye to whatever alone time we would have been able to carve out tonight. Oh well, we hadn't been out, just the four of us, in a while. It would be fun.

"We'll pick Bella up before the game," Alice said. "Jasper's Mustang is actually working this week. See you at lunch!"

She turned and left, and Edward grinned at me with a shrug. "Movie tonight."

"With Jasper and Alice." I returned both the grin and the shrug. At least it would be dark. I wondered if he'd ever been the recipient of a hand job in a movie theater. I wondered if we could ditch Jasper and Alice…

He gave me one last, quick kiss. "Oh well, I'll have you all to myself tomorrow." His finger traced along my cheek. "See you at lunch."

Later that night I drove with Edward to the rink instead of waiting to go with Alice and Jasper. I knew he needed to go early, but I wanted to grab all the time with him I could manage. Once we got there, I sat in the stands, texting Angela and playing games on my phone until I saw a couple of players wander out onto the ice. My eyes immediately went to Edward, his tall form and bright, unruly hair unmistakable. He wasn't completely dressed in his full uniform – he didn't have his skates or all of his pads on yet. He walked out onto the ice and gave me a smirk before turning his attention to the stick he held in his hands and the puck he dropped on the ice. I watched, mesmerized, as he started playing keep-away with one of his teammates that had come out with him and was clad in a similar manner. He barely moved his body, the blade of his stick flashing in a blur as he flicked the puck around – underneath him, the other player, between their legs, around their feet. The stick and his hands were constantly in motion. They were both laughing as the speed of the blade and the puck increased, and finally the other guy pushed him and walked away, shaking his head. His teammate had never even come close to the puck.

He looked up at me again and winked, walking out a little further onto the ice before turning and facing the boards in the corner, where the Plexiglas reached far above our heads. He swung and hit the puck, playing kind of a one person rebound, like hitting a tennis ball against the wall. The puck hit the boards and flew into the air, sliding up along the glass and shooting up into the air, only to arc up over the ice to fall at his feet. I couldn't see it at all; I had no idea how he could follow it. I saw him looking at me out of the corner of his eye, and he started catching the puck on the blade of his stick as it sailed through the air back toward him, flipping it and then catching it again on the other side. Oh yeah, he was showing off, all right. He grinned, cocking his brow arrogantly at me before half-jogging, half-sliding across the ice, hopping over the wall and heading back into the locker room.

Alice and Jasper showed up a little later with Angela in tow, and she wandered off to see Ben as the band members warmed up in a section above us. Alice and I watched with concealed but rapt attention as the players came out onto the ice to warm up and do stretches on the ice. The Zamboni came out to resurface – that's what Jasper told us the proper term was after Alice asked why the ice needed to be pretty and shiny. The National Anthem came over the speakers, and the game began.

Edward seemed more relaxed than usual tonight. He was talking more with the other players on the ice than I was used to seeing, resting his stick across his padded thighs as he shrugged and chatted with the opposing player that shadowed him as they waited for the puck to drop. He played with the same skill and attention, but even I could tell he was having fun. He was grinning ear-to-ear as he leapt off his feet and slammed an opposing player into the boards, scrabbling good-naturedly for the puck before coming up with it and darting down the ice. He passed it to one of his teammates positioned patiently across the rink in a shot too quick for the eye to follow. The other player caught it on the blade of his stick and spun, flicking it up and over the shoulder of the goalie in the same motion. The sirens and flashing lights went off, and we all cheered.

Our team won the hockey game, continuing the one-loss season. Alice and Jasper left about halfway through the third period. It was obvious we were going to win the game, and Alice wanted to change her jacket. Apparently the one she wore to the game wasn't fashionable enough for going to the movies – in the dark, mind you – in Port Angeles.

"We'll be right back," she promised, pulling Jasper with her out of the seats. "We'll meet you in the parking lot, by Edward's car, okay?"

After the final buzzer, I met Edward down at the end of the corridor that led to the locker rooms. His eyes lit up when he saw me waiting for him in the quiet lobby. Everyone else had already left the arena. There were only the last few lingering players and their friends making their way out of the building.

"What, no Alice and Jazz?" he asked, his voice the slightest bit hopeful.

"Alice wanted to change her jacket." I smiled and shook my head. "They'll meet us at your car."

"Oh." He shouldered his enormous equipment bag, sliding his arm around my neck as he steered me toward the doors.

"You looked like you were having fun out there," I commented as he kissed the top of my head.

"Yeah." He shrugged, giving me a squeeze. "I've played with most of the guys on that team since I was little – we were all in Juniors together. Plus, they're kind of in last place in the league right now, so…"

"Not much of a threat?" I finished for him.

"No," he agreed with a grin. "Not really."

We paused in the entryway, noticing the thick, damp fog that had descended while we were in the arena. One of his teammates moved past us through the door with a cheerful "good-night," and we followed more slowly.

"This is crazy," I marveled as we walked carefully through the dark, solid vapor. Thankfully his was the only car left at this end of the lot, so it was fairly easy to see the dark shape looming ahead of us.

We finally made it to the Volvo, the opaque fog swirling around us and making the parking lot lights into illuminated islands of eerie, misty orange. Strands of my hair stuck to my cheek, and the sounds our feet made on the asphalt were muffled and soft. He opened the trunk and placed his bag inside, moving to the driver's side door and leaning in to turn on the radio. I saw him pushing buttons on his iPod. He rolled the windows down, and then came around the car to where I standing.

"Do you want to go back inside the rink to wait for Jazz and Alice?" Edward asked.

"No, I'm good. This is just really weird." I brushed the clinging hair off my face.

"But kinda cool, huh? It's really getting thick."

He'd left the iPod playing; I could hear it through the half open window. He leaned back against the car, holding his arms open, and I snuggled into his embrace. The wet mist clung to us as I wrapped my arms around his waist, and we stood in the swirling fog, just content to hold each other. The heat of his body seeped through his jacket and into me as he hummed the slow song playing from the car in my ear.

I sighed, hugging him tighter and listening to the steady beat of his heart. The song ended, and a new one started. The strong, loud strum of a guitar filled the air. I frowned as drums kicked in, the driving beat somewhat familiar. I listened intently, unconsciously bobbing my head, trying to figure out why the tune seemed so recognizable. As soon as I heard the first line of the song I gave a snort of laughter, leaning back to look up at his face.

"Seriously, Edward? _Little Willy_?"

He shrugged one shoulder with a sheepish smile. "What?"

"Musical prodigy Edward Cullen has a song by Sweet on his iPod?" I shook my head in mock reproof and then stepped back from him.

He cocked an eyebrow at me, but I brought my hand up to my mouth like I was holding an imaginary microphone, and started singing loudly. He grinned, grabbing my hand and spinning me into a turn against his body before twirling me back and joining me in the chorus in his deep, husky baritone.

He swung my hand, dancing, and I actually felt…graceful. He pulled me in a little closer and let go of my hand, doing a boogie to the beat. I watched him for a few seconds, my stomach leaping at the grace and beauty of his sinuous movements. I could never hope to match his physical style, but he was simply a joy to watch. We both joined back with the lyrics, singing and jamming around in the fog, bumping each other and grinning like idiots.

For once in my life I was enjoying dancing instead of feeling awkward and self-conscious. His enthusiasm was catching, and I raised my hands over my head, shimmying and tossing my hair. He strutted over to me, each step an intricate movement in time with the beat and lyrics. He grabbed my waist and raised me high against him, singing and bouncing with me in step, and I threw my head back, laughing. He swung me around before setting me back on my feet, taking both of my hands. Raising our entwined fingers over my head, he began twirling me again. I let him move my body, trusting myself to his strong, sure hands.

He was still singing the lyrics enthusiastically, but I had to concentrate on breathing as he pulled me in to his hip on one side and then swept me out in front of him before repeating the movement on his other side. I spun breathlessly back out in front of him, and he whirled me around and around in wild, intricate dance steps. I was so caught up that I didn't trip once, and I was _dancing_. The fog drifted around us as we spun and twisted and shimmied, both singing at the top of our lungs. I felt…free, and incredibly happy. I sang my heart out and stared into his flushed, shining, and just fricking gorgeous face. The music filled me and I let my sprit soar. When the song came to an end I threw myself against him, wrapping my arms around his neck as we slid down the side of the car, giggling and panting.

"I can't believe you have that song on your iPod," I gasped, hugging him as we sat on the damp asphalt of the parking lot, leaning against the Volvo.

"Yeah, well, you knew every word." He tipped my face up to his, grinning, and pressed his lips to mine in a quick, soft kiss. "And who sang it."

I swung around to straddle his hips, and he slung his arms around my waist as I brought my face close to his, brushing his nose with mine. He let out a happy sigh, and I stared down into his glinting green eyes. I felt my heart wrench free from its moorings. It crashed into my stomach before flying back up into my chest, where it throbbed with a thundering, swelling ache. _Oh God._

"What?" he asked, cocking a thick auburn eyebrow.

I let out a gasp and touched my forehead to his. "Edward…"

"Bella, what?" A frown began to replace the silly grin on his features.

"I love you."

I pulled back slightly and stared into his wide eyes. I must have looked as shocked as he did. It was painfully silent, and after a prolonged moment I struggled to get up, mortified. I untangled myself from his arms and rose to my feet, moving to stand a few feet away. I couldn't look at him. I started to run my hand through my hair before I recognized it as one of his nervous gestures, and immediately forced my arm back down to my side. I exhaled, gritting my teeth, and spun to face him.

He hadn't moved. He was still sitting on the ground against the car by the front tire, staring through the mist at me with an undecipherable expression on his face. I smiled tremulously at him.

"Edward, sorry, I just…it's just…God." This time I did run my hands through my hair and snorted without humor. Only I could take this fun, free moment and ruin it.

He slowly stood, pausing when he reached his full height, never taking his eyes off me. He still hadn't spoken, and I fidgeted nervously.

"Edward, really, sorry, I don't know -"

"Bella." His voice, deep and potent, broke through my frantic stammering. He took one slow step toward me, and then another. "If you don't stop apologizing for telling me you love me I'll. Kick. Your. Ass."

"Oh," I said in a small voice, looking down and wringing my hands together in front of me. "Well. I don't…I mean, I, well, I…_Uhmpf_!"

He grabbed me to him roughly, his mouth taking mine forcefully. He kissed me hard, his tongue plunging into my mouth and greedily devouring. Eventually his touch gentled and he crushed me to him, gasping into my ear. I shivered when his lips lingered along my lobe. He leaned back, bringing his hands up to frame my face as he stared at me intently.

"I love you, too, Bella," he vowed softly.

I opened my mouth to protest, but he frowned, placing another firm kiss on my lips. "Shut the hell up, Swan, and listen. I love you. I have since you opened your door that first night I came to pick you up for our ice cream date." He smiled at me. "You were all blushing and sweet and nervous, and I just fucking fell over my heart at the sight of you. It was lying there, right there in front of you, and you had no idea."

"Edward," I breathed, and he pulled out that lopsided grin.

"I didn't say anything then because I was afraid you'd freak out on me." He touched the end of my nose with his fingertip. "You have a tendency to do that before you have time to think everything through." I smiled faintly. He did know me pretty well. "I figured I'd give you some time, and I hoped eventually you'd feel something for me, too. Work the Cullen charm, you know, start letting you see how I felt. But you…" he shook his head, still smiling down at me. "You never do what I expect. I never know what the hell you're thinking."

"But you love me?" It came out as a question despite my best intentions.

He nodded. "I do."

"Could you maybe…say it again?" I whispered, looking down at where the slight V of his shirt exposed the hollow of his throat. I could see the strong pulse throbbing under his pale skin.

He bent down, his mouth gentle, tender, and reverent on mine. I sighed, slowly opening my eyes to meet his, feeling a little lightheaded from the intensity of that kiss. "I love you, Bella."

I wrapped my arms under his jacket, pressing my face into his chest and inhaling the amazing scent of him. I smiled into the fabric of his shirt and squeezed my eyes shut in disbelieving happiness. When I opened them, he was still there.

"Okay?" he breathed into my hair.

I tilted my head up with a grin. "Yeah. Okay. Really okay." I laughed.

"What?"

I shook my head, still grinning up at him. "It's just that when I let myself imagine this moment, someone I love saying they love me too, I never expected it to come between a threat to kick my ass and a warning to shut the hell up."

He winced, grimacing. "I guess it's my turn to apologize. Not every girl's most romantic fantasy. I'm sorry, Bella."

"No, no," I hastily assured him. "It's just so…us." He snorted at that. "You have a romantic heart, Edward, but a practical head. It's one of the things I love about you."

"That's a good thing, I guess."

"Very good." I dipped my fingertips into the waistband of his jeans, and it was his turn to shiver. He leaned down and kissed me thoroughly until headlights cut through the thick fog.

The sleek form of a classic Mustang appeared next to Edward's Volvo, the first strains of "Dixie" blasting through the air.

"Jasper," we said at the same time, grinning at each other. Only Jasper would have that as his horn on a classic Mustang in the Pacific Northwest.

"Get your lips off of the girl, Cullen," Alice's disembodied voice cut through the fog as the passenger side door popped open. "And get in the car."

"Creepy," I whispered, and he laughed, taking the time to press one last kiss to my lips.

The movie ended up being okay, I guess; I spent most of it being frustrated I couldn't get my hands into his pants without being caught by my annoying best friend. I think he kind of felt the same way. He was restless and fidgety, his fingers rubbing along the waistband of my jeans before being snatched back under the raised brows of our friends. The brief moments at his car waiting for Jasper and Alice were the only ones we'd really had to ourselves in over a week, and that combined with the fact we had just admitted we were in love with each other…well, I just wanted some privacy to molest him.

"Want to go get something to eat?" Alice asked, holding Jasper's hand as we left the movie theater.

"No!" we both burst out, exchanging sheepish grins while they stared at us.

"Jeez, you two," Alice complained, but Jasper smirked as he pulled her close to whisper something in her ear, his eyes glinting at us.

She sighed, but said nothing further as we got into the Mustang and started the drive home. I grinned to myself, realizing it was dark and somewhat private in the backseat. I bit my lip and glanced at the back of Jasper and Alice's heads, taking a peek at the rearview mirror at them before sliding closer to Edward. He put his arm around me, tucking me into his side, and I rested my hand on his thigh. He stroked the hair over my ear as he hummed quietly to the song playing on the radio.

I drummed my fingers slightly on his jean-clad leg, and when I got no reaction my grin widened in the dark. I slid my palm slowly up and down the length of his thigh, finally getting a little squirm out of him. I felt rather than saw his head tip toward me, and let my hand drift higher. That got a definite shift in his seat. I was thankful to note he hadn't put on a belt when he'd dressed in his street clothes after the game. I deftly undid the top button of his jeans, pulling on the fabric to loosen the rest.

He coughed and shifted forward, nonchalantly bringing his hand down to cover mine, stopping my movements. I lifted my head, still grinning, and he frowned down at me with a slight shake of his head. I raised a brow, giving his restraining hand a light smack, and then a pinch when he didn't move it. I shoved it aside, dipping my fingers inside the denim, stroking firmly over the quickly growing bulge. He made a strangled noise, and Alice's face popped up over the seat to peer at us with a frown. He jerked away from me, putting space between us, quickly pulling the hem of his sweatshirt over his lap.

Alice scowled at my innocent look, but after a few seconds she sat back in her seat. Edward subtly adjusted himself, scowling at me, too, but I gave him a serene smile in return. Just wait until I got rid of cockblocking Alice.

We rode in companionable silence, the long, dark, tree-lined road leading back to Forks from Port Angeles familiar and boring. I glanced at my watch, wondering if we'd have some time together before he had to take me home. I looked up sharply, leaning forward to see out the front window when Jasper made a noise and the Mustang started to slow. A car was pulled over on the side of the road, lights still on, and two small figures standing alongside it. One held a flashlight while the other appeared to be down on their knees by the front tire. Jasper slowed even more, swinging the Mustang onto the shoulder of the road to pull up behind the sedan.

"What are you doing?" Alice asked.

"Stopping to see if they need any help."

Alice grabbed his arm, stopping him. "What? Here? Now? In the dark?"

"Well, yeah." He grinned at her.

"Who are you, Dudley Do-Right?" she asked, shaking her head.

Edward started whistling the Dudley Do-Right theme as they both got out of the car at the same time, leaving Alice and I sitting in the dark and silence in the car.

She peered over the seat at me with wide eyes, and I strained forward, trying to see what was going on in front of us. I saw an elderly couple standing outside of their vehicle, and from the wild gesturing of the man at the front tire, I suspected they had a flat. The lady – I assumed she was his wife – held the flashlight and was jabbing it at the man. Edward turned around and came back to the car.

He opened the driver's side door. "They've got a flat," he explained, verifying my thought. He reached over and took the keys, fumbling for the one that would unlock the trunk.

"Do you need any help?" I asked warily, glancing around at the dark woods surrounding us.

He hesitated, but then answered, "If you wouldn't mind. We could use someone to hold the flashlight." He nodded to where the woman was gesturing wildly with the light.

I bit my lip and got out slowly, following him when he headed back toward the other car. I heard the door of the Mustang slam as Alice scrambled after us.

"You're not leaving me alone," she said emphatically. "I've seen way too many horror movies for that. The cute teenage girl in the car always gets hacked up first."

"This is Bella and Alice," Edward introduced us, kneeling next to the car and helping Jasper position the jack he had retrieved from the Mustang's trunk.

"We're George and Mary Miller." The woman beamed at us while George watched what the boys were doing critically. "Thank you. It's so nice of you young people to stop and help. George just had heart bypass surgery not too long ago. It isn't good for him to overdo things, and he just doesn't have the strength he used to have."

"It's the blasted jack," George grumbled. "Newfangled things are useless."

Edward shot me a quick grin over his shoulder. "Bella, would you mind holding the light for us?"

Mary handed me the flashlight, and I aimed it at their hands. I felt her bump my shoulder slightly as she leaned in to whisper in my ear, "Handsome, isn't he?"

I felt myself blush as I gaped at her. She laughed, and Alice took a step closer to us. "They both are," she clarified, and Alice frowned slightly in confusion. "Handsome," Mary said once again, grinning. I felt a giggle building up inside of me as she watched our boys appreciatively.

Jasper and Edward finished changing the tire fairly quickly. They declined the offer of money, and we finally left amid profuse thanks and promises of cookies and other various baked goods.

"That was nice of you guys," I told Edward as we settled into the backseat of the Mustang. Jasper gave a blast of the horn, and the notes of "Dixie" followed us as we pulled back onto the road.

"I'm a nice guy," he grinned.

"What if they were some kind of crazed maniacs?" Alice asked.

Jasper grinned. "Who, Mary and George? Nah."

Alice glanced at me, and we shook our heads.

"So, Bella," Jasper said, putting his arm around Alice and pulling her to his side. "Should I take you home or back to Edward's car?"

I glanced at my watch to see I had plenty of time before my curfew. "The car, please," I told Jasper, and Edward's smile flashed white in the dim light of the backseat.

Jasper and Alice drove to the ice arena, dropping us off at the Volvo still sitting in the parking lot. Edward turned to me after waving at the departing taillights of the Mustang, twining his fingers with mine.

"Do you have time to come over to my house?" he asked.

"I've got a little time before Charlie expects me home," I told him. "Sure."

He led me over to the car, unlocking the door with the remote and helping me settle into my seat before rounding the front and getting behind the wheel.

"Will you play something for me?" I asked.

"On the radio?" His hand lifted to hover over the knobs as he glanced at me with a raised brow.

"No, when we get to your house. On the piano," I clarified. I loved it when he played the instrument, the muscles subtly flowing underneath his skin as his long fingers gracefully swept over the keys. His physicality was obvious even seated at the piano bench; he infused his music with the strong character and charisma that was just so much a part of him.

"Okay." His other brow rose to join the first, but he smiled.

The outside lights were on at his house when we arrived, and he held my hand as he pulled me behind him, quietly opening the door from the garage. The lights inside the house were dim, and he stuck his head down the hall that led to the master suite at one end and the kitchen at the other.

"Hello?" he called softly.

There was a faint noise, and his father peered around the doorframe of his study.

"Edward. Hello, Bella. Was the movie any good?"

"It was okay," Edward responded. "Bella wants me to play the piano for her, and then I'm going to take her home."

His father's dark blond brow rose in the exact same gesture Edward used, and I had to hide a smile. "Piano, huh?" he said with a meaningful look at the two of us standing in the dimly lit hall.

"Dad," Edward said in exasperation, and even though I couldn't see his face, I knew he was rolling his eyes.

His father just grinned and made an amused noise before disappearing back into the study. Edward shook his head and led me up the stairs.

"Ever think about getting an elevator?" I panted, hauling my heavy legs up the last few steps to his third floor apartment, as I liked to call it in my head.

"Hmm," he replied. "I'm going to have to get you into better shape."

"Good luck," I muttered under my breath, and he shot me a grin, leading me to the shiny black piano in the music room.

"What do you want to hear?" he asked, sitting at the bench with a flourish. I lowered myself to the floor a few feet away where I had a good view.

"I don't care," I told him, stretching out on my stomach, resting my chin in my hands. "Something pretty."

He pursed his lips thoughtfully and bent his head. After a long second, his fingers began moving across the keys. I was instantly absorbed in his music, the look of peace and intensity that came across his face as he played for me. He was glorious, and somehow – inconceivably – mine. A beautiful soul, a talented musician, and…hockey player. He was amazing.

The last notes rang through the room and I continued to stare at him, mesmerized. He opened his eyes slowly to meet my gaze, his focus soft, almost dreamy, until it sharpened on me.

"What?" he asked, a hint of color tinting his cheekbones. I stood up and walked directly to him, letting my finger trace the soft, pinked skin stretched across the prominent bone.

"Incredible," I whispered, and he pulled me down to straddle him on the piano bench. I kissed him once, and then again, and then one more time for good measure. "I love you."

He groaned, gripping the back of my head and pressing my mouth more firmly to his. His other hand caressed my butt and hitched my leg higher on his hip. He pushed back and stood with a low grunt of effort, holding me to him, his hand guiding my legs more securely around his waist. I tried to break away to object, but he was having none of that. He deepened the kiss, biting at my lower lip, tongue smoothing the scrape and filling my mouth. I stopped trying to protest after that.

He managed to stagger into his bedroom, making it to the bed before dropping me onto it, following me down and never parting his mouth from mine. He kissed me deeply, lingeringly, thoroughly, and I reveled in sensation. He ran his hands up my sides to my breasts and pressed his hips into mine. I moaned, wrapping my calves around his upper thighs just below the firm curve of his butt, pulling him tighter against me, rocking my pelvis.

He thrust against me with a grunt that was sexy as hell, plunging his hands into my hair and holding my head still for his mouth. There was a light, thrilling sting as he pulled the hair over my ears, and I felt my hair combs loosen and fall away. He filled his big hands with fistfuls, tugging gently, moving my head for better, deeper contact. I thought I'd pass out from the joy of his body pressing heavily into mine, his hands guiding me for our pleasure, the helpless rocking motions of his hips into mine. He'd never been this aggressive, almost uncontrolled before, and I was thrilled right down to my bones. His heavy erection rubbed me right on the seam of my jeans, pressing into me, and I whimpered and writhed as an orgasm struggled to break through.

"Oh, p-please," I begged against his ravenous mouth, and he bit my lip, pulling it between us as he reached down and wrestled with my jeans. His hand plunged into my panties, his fingers curling unerringly into me, his thumb pressing and circling. My body exploded, arching and bucking against him as he leaned his weight into me to hold me to the bed, muffling my sharp cries with his lips and tongue.

He broke away much too soon, resting his hot cheek against mine, panting and gasping for air. I knew I sounded the same. He still thrust against me, well-seated between my thighs, running his hands over my hips. The motion was slowly becoming less urgent, although no less forceful.

"Jesus, Bella," he panted. I could feel his breath on my skin, the brush of his lips against my face. I inhaled his scent, his heat, and rocked against him once more. He grunted, and I tried to insinuate my hand between us, tried to touch him where he was hot and eager. He hissed, jerking slightly away and grabbing my wrist. I turned my head to look at him in question and saw his tense, clenched jaw, his wild eyes.

"Let me help you," I whispered, trying to twist my wrist loose. "I want to touch you, Edward."

He shuddered, lifting himself to sit next to me on the bed. He took my hands in his, bringing them to his lips to kiss gently, and then gave me a strained smile.

"I'm okay," he insisted, shaking his head when I opened my mouth to protest. I _really_ wanted to touch him. "If you touch me, if you even brush against me right now, I'm going to come in my pants. And," he said loudly as I started to protest again, "not only is that gross, but then I'd have to change. If my dad is still up – which he probably is – he'll notice, and there's no other explanation for that, not after being up in my bedroom with my girl late at night for an hour…" his voice trailed off ruefully, and I had to smile.

"Shut up, Edward," I told him, sliding off the side of the bed to rest on my knees, between his. I undid the buttons on his jeans, slapping at his hands when he tried to stop me. "You are so not going to come in your pants." I wrestled him free of the denim and the cotton of his underwear, and I grinned as I noticed his attempts to stop me were half-hearted at this point. "You're going to come in my mouth."

He let out a high-pitched whimpering sound as he pulsed in my hands at my words. My grin turned into laughter as I slipped my lips over him and drew him in behind my teeth, my tongue lapping and my cheeks sucking. He tasted warm and sweet, hard as a steel rod, and his Edward-smell was concentrated and musky. He came almost instantly, with panting cries as he throbbed and jerked, both intensifying as I swallowed around him.

He collapsed back on the bed, arms flung out to his sides, his wide chest heaving. I tucked him back into his jeans and made him decent, admiring the way the buttons of his fly stretched to accommodate him, even in his flaccid state. I raised myself up to sit on the bed with a smug smile. His eyes were shut, and one corner of his mouth was curled up in replete satisfaction. I leaned forward to press a kiss to the curve of his lip.

He sighed, his hand coming up to wrap around my neck and hold me to him for another kiss. His chest vibrated with a happy rumble as he opened his eyes and smiled into mine. He kissed me once again, gently, and stood. Holding out his hand, he pulled me to my feet and reached down to fasten my jeans. "Come on, I'd better get you home. I don't want to do anything to piss Charlie off – I have to stay on his good side so he'll let you come over tomorrow."

"I can't wait," I murmured, pressing against him, leaning up on my tiptoes to kiss his wide mouth once more.

He groaned and stepped away, turning to walk purposefully out the bedroom door to the stairs. "Cut it out, or I _will_ have to change my pants."

I grinned in delight, and followed him out of the house to his car.

* * *

**Next chapter, Bella decides to do something about that virgin status.**

**I knew what I wanted – I wanted him, bad – and this time I wasn't going to take no for an answer.**


	19. Chapter 19: Score

**Still Stephenie Meyer. Still not me.**

**Thanks to my betas Sarahsumbrella and silentnc for getting the finished product to me.**

* * *

**CHAPTER 19: Score**

I woke the next morning to find that Charlie had already left to go fishing. I knew from past experience that he would be gone until dark. I had told him last night I was going to be eating dinner at the Cullens' and wouldn't be home until my midnight curfew. He looked thoughtful and informed me he would be having dinner with a friend, and that he wouldn't be home until late himself. Ha. He had a date—I knew it.

Edward had told me yesterday that his parents were leaving at noon. "Twelve o'clock sharp," he emphasized with a smile as he kissed me. "My mom's a freak about keeping Dad on a schedule, so you can believe it won't be a minute later. You need to be here at exactly 12:01. I want to make the most of every second we're alone."

I didn't plan on being late. My stomach was rolling with nerves, but I managed to eat some cereal and fruit before spending the next couple of hours in exfoliating, depilatory hell. I studiously examined the explicit instructions Alice had left for me along with a vast array of girly products. I wanted to be lotioned, potioned, and clad in the wickedest of my lingerie when I saw him today. I was determined he would not put me off any longer. I knew what I wanted – I wanted him, bad – and this time I wasn't going to take no for an answer.

I debated about curling my hair, but thought that might be just a bit too obvious. I settled for a couple of hot rollers to give just a little bit of extra oomph, and decided to pull it back from my face as I usually did. I couldn't find my favorite hair combs, though, Grandma Swan's combs, the ones with the pretty blue stones. I started to panic a little as I searched frantically through my small wooden jewelry box, and then through the contents of my desk and the top of my dresser. They weren't valuable except for the sentiment – they had belonged to Charlie's mother. I was always so careful about putting them away, and the last time I had worn them was…last night.

Last night – of course. My stomach fluttered and my thighs clenched as I remembered Edward lying on top of me, his hands in my hair, tugging and pulling to get a better angle for our mouths. In my lust induced stupor I had only barely noticed them falling out and then promptly forgot, what with Edward's tongue dancing across mine. I must have left them in his bed. _Oh, his bed_…I shivered and grinned to myself. I planned on losing something in his bed, all right.

A few minutes before noon I ran down the stairs, grabbing my coat and keys. I stood uncertainly in the hallway for a second, feeling like I should be bringing something with me. I wasn't sure what, but I just felt…anxious. And excited. I shrugged, getting into my truck to make the drive to his house.

Once there, I sat in the driveway taking deep, calming breaths. I managed to make it up the walk without falling on my face. I rang the bell, and almost immediately one of the heavy doors swung open to show Edward's tall, lean form silhouetted in the opening. He had on a loose, soft thermal pullover that clung enticingly to his wide shoulders, and well-worn, faded denim that hung from his hips. He was barefoot. I gulped.

"Hey," he said softly, that maddening half grin curling his lips as he stepped back to allow me to enter.

"Hey," I returned. My anxiety faded as it always did when I was with him.

He reached out and took my hand, pulling me to him for a kiss. It started out as a quick, welcoming touch, but we both kept coming back for more, and then more. His arms swept around my waist, pulling me up so that our faces were better aligned.

"Parents?" I asked with a gasp, falling back to my feet.

"Gone," he murmured with a wicked grin that made my knees weak. "I've got you all to myself for the next twelve hours."

"I hope you have plans for all that time," I teased, taking off my jacket and hanging it in the small coat closet.

"As a matter of fact I do," he said, taking my hand and leading me toward the stairs. "I wrote something for you."

"You did?" I asked, surprised, letting him pull me up the crazy flights of stairs. "What, like a poem?"

"No," he laughed. "Definitely not a poem." By the time we got to his floor I was panting. He turned to his left into the music room instead of right into his bedroom, and sat me on the piano bench, facing away from the instrument.

I watched him curiously as he went to the opposite wall where his guitars were lined up, and he selected the one I recognized as his acoustic guitar. He swung the strap over his head and settled it on his shoulder before turning to me with a small smile. He dropped his head, strumming lightly as he tuned the instrument, and then glanced back up into my curious face. His head bent again, and he began playing a lovely melody. It was vaguely familiar, and I realized with a start that it was the same one he had begun to play for me last night on the piano. He must have caught my slight movement, for he looked at me again with that same almost shy smile. The last note thrummed in the air, and he stood before me, shifting slightly.

"So, do you like it?" he asked.

"That was…that was beautiful, Edward. Is it the same one you played last night?"

"Um, yeah." He lifted the guitar from around his neck, putting it back in its place. He looked pleased I had recognized the song. "It's something I've been working on – it reminds me of you. When I got back last night after dropping you off, it just all came together." He shrugged self-consciously.

"Wow." I stood and moved to him, linking my arms around his neck. "I love it. No one's ever written a song for me before."

He settled his big hands on my waist, again shrugging one shoulder. "It's no big deal." He tried to brush it off, but I wasn't about to let him.

"It is a big deal," I insisted softly. "It's amazing, Edward. You're very talented. Thank you."

"Yeah?" he asked, a smile lighting his beautiful face.

"Yeah," I affirmed, hugging him tight.

He held me for a few minutes, and I absorbed the heat and the smell of him, shutting my eyes and just blissing out. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head before taking a small step back, smiling as he twined his fingers in mine. He moved toward the large bathroom through the door behind me, pausing at the sink, and I continued to his bedroom. I trailed my hand along the back of his leather sofa, wandering slowly to the opposite end of the room. I pushed the hair behind my ear and eyed that big, soft bed.

"Did you find my hair combs?" I asked. I could hear the water running as he washed his hands. "I think I left them over here last night. Somebody pulled them out of my hair."

"Huh, really?" he commented, the smartass.

"It's just that they're the only thing Charlie ever gave me from my grandma."

"Yeah," he called back. "They're in the drawer by my bed."

I paused at the foot of the bed, pursing my lips thoughtfully. He had nightstands on either side; the one on the right had a small pull-out drawer and racks underneath that held CDs and books. The one to my left had two slightly larger drawers. I moved to it, sitting on the bed as I opened the top one.

He came running out of the bathroom at the same moment. "Um, Bella, wait…!"

I sat there, stunned, gaping at the contents of the drawer. I knew my mouth was hanging open but couldn't help it. He rushed over to me and slid to a stop, hovering anxiously. I flicked a quick glance at his face, the only movement my brain was able to dictate. I distantly noticed that his face was flaming red before my eyes snapped back to the nightstand. I saw my hand reaching slowly forward as if in slow motion, saw his hand twitch toward me, and then helplessly fall to his side.

"Bella," he groaned in dismayed embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I didn't think…shit."

"Wow," I managed in a soft, barely audible voice.

He shifted toward me and then paused. I dimly realized he was in an agony of awkwardness, but couldn't tear my eyes away from what was in the drawer to soothe him. "Bella." His hand finally touched my arm, but I ignored him. "I'm so sorry. This is beyond…umm…what can I say? Are you all right?"

The amount and quality of porn was staggering. It was a bedside sex drawer beyond my wildest imagination. My hands sifted slowly through objects, some I recognized, some I didn't. He groaned, dropping to his knees beside me. "Say something, for Chrissake. Bella…"

My eyes finally met his. His face was tense, worried, and I placed my palms on either side of his glorious angel's face. I leaned in toward him, my brain whirling. "I am so fucking turned on right now – you have no idea."

Comical shock washed over his features. He kept his clear green eyes on mine, and after a minute an alarming look of fierce determination replaced the surprise. He slid his hand behind my neck and pulled my face to his. I felt his mouth cover mine, his tongue plunging in with no warning, and I grabbed his hair in retaliation. I wasn't kidding when I told him I was turned on. I was on like a frigging searchlight.

His mouth was brutal, licking, sucking, his teeth nipping and biting. I reveled. He leaned into me, and I rose up to my knees on the bed to push back against him. No way was this going to be a one-way street. His hand twisted in my hair, the other moving to the front of my shirt. I felt the buttons releasing and went to work on his pullover, grabbing the hem and yanking it up until it caught on our chins. I tried to ease away to pull it over his head, but his hand tightened almost painfully in my hair. A hot rush of wetness made itself known between my thighs. Holy slip and slide.

He finally broke away from my mouth and let me tear his shirt off, reaching down to yank mine over my shoulders and down to my elbows, trapping my arms. He shoved me back on the bed and took my breast in his mouth through the filmy blue lace of my bra. My back arched in startled, delighted reaction.

"Edward," I gasped, struggling to free my arms from my clothes. "Edward, I have to – Yes! Oh, like that…just like that…I have to touch you…"

Finally my arms were free, and I wrapped them around those world-class shoulders, holding on for dear life. He pulled one cup of the bra down and his hot mouth seared across my sensitive nipple, his teeth scraping. I gasped and clutched him tighter. As if this was some sort of trigger, he slowed the ravenous sucking, and slowly, gently started nuzzling and licking. He lifted his eyes to mine and I caught my breath.

"Bella," he said, his voice rough, low, and serious. "I want you, all of you, right now. If you," he swallowed, "if you don't want this, you have to tell me now."

"Edward," I murmured, raking my nails down his chest and across his amazing abdomen, slowly bumping over every muscle that ridged there. I kept my eyes locked on his and I gripped him through his jeans, stroking up his hard length. "If you stop now," my fingers twisted the first metal button loose and popped open the rest that covered his massive erection, "I will so fucking hurt you."

He kissed me, grinning against my lips, and I tasted his smile. I whimpered in protest when he eased his hips away, but he gently pushed me back into the bed, flicking the front snap of my bra open and tracing the edge of the lace with his fingertips. "This one is my new favorite," he whispered, leaning down to kiss and lick as he exposed the soft skin of my breasts. I arched and made a sound in the back of my throat, and he gave the bra a faintly regretful look as he tossed it on the floor. He pressed soft, wet kisses to my breasts, whispering down my stomach as those long, clever fingers unsnapped my jeans. The zipper lowered slowly. I was hypersensitive, feeling cool air brush my bare skin before it was covered by the heat of his hand. He dipped under the elastic of my matching underwear, humming in approval and giving me a quick stroke with his fingers before moving back up to push the denim and scrap of lace down my hips.

"No words," he murmured, looking at me once he had me bare. "No words for how beautiful you are." I involuntarily glanced down, my gaze fastening on his open fly and the straining grey cotton boxer briefs he wore. Electricity zinged through my body.

"Edward," I gasped, and he leaned over me as he kissed my mouth softly. He rubbed his body against mine, his mouth never lifting from my skin – down my neck, along my collarbone, across each breast and nipple, giving them slow, lazy attention before trailing down to my stomach. My hipbones got a gentle bite that made me jerk with the strength of the sensation, and then my entire being spasmed as he lapped between my legs.

"Edward!" I sobbed, tangling my fingers in his hair. "Please, I want you inside me, now."

"Shh," he blew a warm breath against me. "Shh." He licked and stroked and suckled gently, and then hard, scraping intimate, sensitive flesh with his strong, white teeth. I sobbed and writhed and clutched. I couldn't feel anything, not the bed, the cool air, the sheets…I couldn't feel anything but his soft, agile tongue and warm, wet mouth between my legs. I couldn't draw air into my lungs to beg him to stop, to keep the torment going forever, until he finally lifted his head and looked up my body. Breath came back to me in harsh, ragged, and almost painful pants as I unscrewed my eyelids to meet his gaze in shocked incomprehension. He looked like a demonic angel lying between my thighs, the dark flame of his hair standing up and sticking out all over from the demanding pull of my hands. His eyes burned with the strength of his arousal.

"Bella," he whispered.

"Edward," I whimpered, twisting my hips slightly to get closer to him. God, didn't he know I was burning alive? Couldn't he tell how badly I wanted him? His mouth, his fingers, his…his…_gah_, his cock? I didn't care at this point. I was ready. I just wanted _him_.

"Bella, I wanted this to be special. I wanted…our first time…"

I tried to calm my breathing, the raging want that pulsed through me. It was utterly impossible to concentrate with him warm and heavy between my legs, almost where I wanted him so badly, but I did appreciate his sentiment.

"Edward." I attempted to speak rationally, but my voice was rough and hoarse. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Edward, I know. But I can't imagine wanting you more than I do right now. Please. I love you."

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He turned his head to kiss the inside of my thigh, giving it a hot, wet lick. I shivered, and he ran his nose along the soft, tender skin up to my fluttering sex. He paused, and I grew taut with expectation. He pressed his lips to the flesh there, giving a sharp nip. I jumped and groaned in pleasure, still in an agony of anticipation. He soothed the small sting with his mouth, and then lapped me fully with the wide, warm length of his tongue. I couldn't control the strange, pitiful sounds coming from my throat as he swirled the tip, flicking and sucking, and then plunging his tongue inside me in an imitation of the act I so desperately needed.

"Edward!" I shrieked. My hands were back in his hair, my hips tilting up to get closer to his mouth. "Ahh, Edward, please!"

He pulled himself up on his arms over me, his knees keeping my thighs spread. He reached into the open drawer beside the bed and pulled out a condom. My breath hitched and caught in my lungs as I watched him stroke it onto his erection. His eyes were intense and focused on mine as he reached between my legs and parted me, one finger slipping inside and slicking the wetness around my flesh and down his length. The intensity in his beautiful green eyes faded into dreamy wonder as he pushed into me much too slowly, and my hips bucked. "God, Bella, easy, easy baby. You feel so good. I want to…I can't…"

"Yes," I insisted, and he slid in, harder and fuller and more than I ever could have imagined…Edward was inside me. My back arched like a bow at the intense combination of pleasure and pain, the intimate rub of his flesh against mine, and he moaned. I was stretched, full, filled with a heavy, burning sensation.

He held still over me, trembling, waiting for me to adjust, and so he could get a grip on his control.

"Bella…" his voice was thick and unsteady. His hips twitched, and he gasped before kissing me hard. The burning sensation had faded into a thrumming expectancy inside me. I pushed my pelvis up, instinctively seeking to ease the tension and anticipation coursing through my body. "Don't move! Ah, Bella…"

I ran my hands up and down his sides frantically, pushing with subtle pressure on his lower back. He lowered his weight, pressing further into me, and I groaned at the sensation. He pulled back, stilling anxiously for a moment until I raised my hips again, seeking his, and he slid fully back inside. The pleasure was intense, and I threw my head back, feeling his lips on my throat.

The next thrust was sharper and harder as his control faltered, the next even deeper. He dropped his head and his tongue plunged into my mouth with the next stroke of his body. I'd never felt anything as powerful as Edward stretching me, the drag and pull of him as he thrust. He was grunting with every push in and groaning with every slide out, and I thrilled to the sounds he was making. I lifted my legs, locking my ankles around his waist, wanting to get as close to him as I could. We both gasped as he slid deeper. He pressed his forehead to mine, our heaving breath and sweat mingling together. I opened my eyes to see the deep green of his focused on my face, watching me, and I managed to reach a hand up to stroke his cheek. We stared at each other, letting the sensation of our connection burn through us, and my heart soared. I'd never felt this alive, this aware, in my life. He reared back slightly to slip a hand between our joined hips, pressing one long finger against my flesh, just exactly where all of the sensation in my body was currently centered. I gasped, lifting and pushing against him frantically to increase the friction.

"I need you to come for me, if you can," he rasped in my ear. "I'm not gonna last…I have to…"

His finger rubbing me, the awareness of him inside me – moving, stroking, pulling in and out – his deep, unsteady voice in my ear, his grunts and moans…it was all too much. My sudden exclamation at the explosion of sharp pleasure echoed through the room, the sound fading even as the sensation of fullness, of being complete, went on and on. His eyes fluttered shut and his arms curled under my biceps, around my shoulders, his hands gripping me tight. He lasted four strokes like this, each one more than the last. He moaned long and low, pressing his cheek to my breast and shuddering violently as he came.

We lay like that, with him collapsed on top of me and our breath heaving in and out, for many long minutes. Gradually, the electric tingling left my extremities and normal feeling returned. I stroked my hand down the long, quivering line of muscle along his spine. After a long while he stirred, lifting his head, his cheek sticking to my breast and our skin pulling apart reluctantly. He pressed a kiss between my breasts before groaning and rolling onto his back, pulling out of me. I was wet and slick between my thighs from my own release, sore from the unaccustomed friction and from being stretched. I regretted the loss of him, the connection, but snuggled up against his side when he rolled back after disposing of the condom. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close to his chest. I didn't mind that he was still damp with perspiration. I was, too, and he was sweaty because of what we had just done together. Yummy.

The knuckles of one hand brushed gently down my arm. "Bella." His usually smooth voice was a bit gritty and rough, and that was because of me, too. I did a Snoopy happy dance inside. He had to clear his throat, and he shifted to his side, facing me, his arm settling into the curve of my waist. The fingers of his other hand traced the bow of my lip, and he watched the pattern for a second before meeting my eyes. "I love you – I just want you to know. I love you, Bella."

I leaned up and gently kissed his wicked mouth. I lingered, not in passion, but in a wealth of emotion. "I know. I love you, Edward. I never imagined that anything could be so…" my voice trailed off and I shivered with the overwhelming memories of what he had just done to me, done with me. "Amazing. You felt so good."

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked softly.

I shook my head slowly back and forth on the pillow. "God, no. I can't wait to do it again." There had been no real pain, just some discomfort – I figured his long fingers inside of me in the past had done away with any virginal barriers, and I couldn't have been happier.

His eyes searched mine for a second, and apparently what he saw reassured him in a way I wasn't even aware he needed. He relaxed, pressing his mouth to my forehead. "Good. I feel the same way." He smiled at me, and I grinned back.

"So." He lay back down and pulled me halfway onto his chest. With a contended sigh, I nestled my head into his hard pectoral as best I could, enjoying the heat and smoothness of his skin. He reached down with one hand and flipped the corner of the comforter over us. "What else turns you on?"

"Hmm," I murmured drowsily. "Don't think we won't be getting back to what you've got in that drawer. I saw some things I'd like to try." I smiled into his skin as I felt him twitch and harden against my hip. I thought about his question. "Lots of weird things turn me on, I guess."

"Weird?" he looked down at me with a raised eyebrow and a lecherous grin. I laughed.

"Not like that." I took a playful nip at the muscle under his cheek, and then licked it better. "I don't know exactly. Not the typical romantic movie hero, although that's not a bad thing sometimes." I paused, and he continued stroking my arm. "I like the out of your reach fantasy type, I guess."

"Fantasy type?" his voice was regaining its usual smoothness, and combined with the skin stroking I was kind of losing my train of thought.

"Mm, yeah. You know, the dark, tortured mystery that is Batman. The conflicted Spiderman. Superman in his cape and that big old 'S' on his chest…"

"Superheroes, huh? Not the bad guys?"

I reached down below his waist to do some stoking of my own. "I guess. Maybe it's just the tights. I kind of have a thing for Robin Hood, too. And you can't tell me those boots Wonder Woman wears don't star in a couple of your fantasies. I saw your porn stash."

The laugh strangled in his throat as my other hand joined the first. "It's really the wrist cuffs," he joked, and I had to smile. "And the big hair."

"Mm." I wriggled down, pulling the covers with me to get a good, close look at what I had in my hands, and of course I had to breathe on it."Spidey-tights for me all the way."

His smile trembled and he bit down on his full lower lip. "Oh, God, Bella…"

I grinned, and put my mouth where the money was.

**-0-**

We made love like the crazy hormonal teenagers we were all afternoon, until the soreness between my legs and the trembling in my muscles let it be known that enough was enough – despite our generous use of the warming lube in Edward's drawer. I wanted to write a love letter to the manufacturers of that wonderful stuff, but thought that might be kind of weird. We finally ended up in the Jacuzzi, the steaming, swirling water keeping us warm in the cool, winterish air and soothing away the discomfort of tender body parts. I hissed when I first sank in, the sting of the hot water unexpected, but it quickly faded into a soothing pulse. Edward pulled me between his legs to sit on his bench, urging me back so that I lay against his chest. His legs floated up around me as we relaxed, and I was comfortably surrounded by his big, hard body and his wet, chlorine-tainted scent. I watched the billows of steam rise from the surface of the bubbling water and sighed, my entire body relaxed and my mind content.

His arm slid around my chest under the water, just below my breasts, and I let my legs float inside of his as he anchored me. I felt his nose and lips nuzzling absently against my ear, along my cheek, and down my neck.

"Love you." I could feel the rumble of his voice in his chest, and heard the words as they whispered across my ear.

I crossed my arms over his and squeezed, sinking slightly lower in the water. "Love you, too." I pressed my head back into the curve of his shoulder.

"I hope so," he said, and I could hear the amusement in his tone. "Because you're going to meet my brother tomorrow."

I tipped my head up, looking past his strong, angular chin to meet his laughing green eyes. "Is he really that bad?" I asked with a smile.

"Worse," he assured me cheerfully. "Emmett is a force of…well, a force of something. He's probably the smartest person I know, but he's just…Emmett. I hope you don't end up running from the house, screaming." I snorted, but he shook his head. "Bella. Just remember to not take anything he says seriously. And if says he has something for you, whatever you do, don't take it. Come get me right away."

"Really?"

"You have no idea. Promise me."

"Okay." I shook my head in amusement, thinking he had to be exaggerating, but he seemed pretty serious. "If it makes you feel better."

It was his turn to snort. "He and Rose will be here for a few nights before going back to school. He's got to get back for practice before the big game. You're coming over, right?"

"Yep. I'll be here for dinner tomorrow and for Christmas," I affirmed. "My dad will be here on Christmas, too, but not for long. He's going to spend the holiday with Sue Clearwater down in LaPush."

"Yeah?" he questioned lazily, going back to brushing his lips along my jaw.

"Yeah. Maybe now he'll actually admit he's seeing her."

We soaked for a little while longer, until our fingertips pruned and the warmth of the water could no longer stave off the chill in the air. He fed me an early dinner, and we made our way – kissing, groping, and laughing – up the stairs to his bedroom. We burrowed under the thick comforter, wrapped around each other, and managed to make love once again, the lube doing its job easing the way. We were both so sensitive, so spent, that we ended up just laying joined together, his solid body a comforting weight on top of me, moving slowly, carefully, languidly, until he finally, _finally_ came in strong, slow pulses.

"I really like doing that," I murmured as he got up to dispose of the condom – I didn't know how many we'd gone through—yay for seventeen year old boys. He slid back into bed to wrap me in his arms, snuggling close, surrounding me with him.

He chuckled softly and kissed my neck. "Me, too. Just rest now, mia Bella. I set my cell phone alarm so we'll wake up in plenty of time to get you home."

"Okay," I breathed, shutting my eyes, perfectly happy to be wrapped up in him, in his bed, in his heart.

I was groggy, my legs weak and limp when he woke me sometime later, murmuring in my ear. He eased me into a sitting position on his bed, dressing my languid and barely cooperative form. I gave a jaw-cracking yawn, and he smiled tenderly down at me where I sat rumpled and sleepy on the edge of his bed. He knelt down on the floor, turning his back, and I frowned at him uncomprehendingly.

He turned his head to grin at me. "Hop on."

I shook my head to clear it of my Edward sex stupor. "Um, _what_?"

"Hop on," he repeated, leaning back and grabbing my legs, bringing them around his waist in demonstration.

"Edward." My stern tone was disrupted by another huge yawn. "You can't seriously be considering carrying me down all those stairs."

"Shut up, Swan. Do you doubt my manly strength?" I found myself leaning forward against his warm back, my arms snaking around his neck. He stood with a lurch, and I squeaked.

"No, but I think you're in denial of my womanly weight."

"Pfft." He dismissed my concerns, juggling me slightly to secure my position on his back. I lay my head on his shoulder despite my protests. "Just don't let go, okay?"

"Oh, God," I moaned, but somehow he made it down the three flights of stairs and out the garage door to his car without dropping me or falling on his ass.

I remembered nothing of the drive to my house, only his arms around me once we were in the driveway, lifting me against his chest and carrying me onto the porch.

"Charlie?" I managed to mumble, faint alarm allowing me a moment of clarity.

"He's not home yet." Edward's silky voice was a soft rumble against my ear.

He had to set me down to unlock the front door, and I managed to stagger up the stairs under my own power to my bedroom. He sat me on my bed, undressing me before tucking me under the covers. I felt his lips press to my forehead and his velvet voice murmur, "I love you, Bella. Good night."

"Wait," I groaned, lifting a hand to him and he stopped. "What about my truck?"

"I'll come pick you up tomorrow. If you need your truck before then, just call." His hand stroked over my hair, and I hummed in acquiescence before tumbling headlong into blissful sleep.

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**Emmett's up next chapter, and he plays a little joke on his brother.**

**I fell into helpless giggles as I pictured the look of shocked horror Edward wore when the condoms bounced off his plate.**


	20. Chapter 20: Dropping The Gloves

**This is all brought to you thanks to Stephenie Meyer. I'm just messin' around.**

**Betas Sarahsumbrella and silentnc - thanks for putting your RL aside for a while to get this in shape for us!**

**Thank you - so much - for all the reviews and alerts. It means the world to me that you're enjoying this Edward and Bella and their adventures. I really appreciate those of you who have rec'd this story.**

* * *

**CHAPTER 20: Dropping The Gloves**

I called him first thing the next morning to thank him for taking care of me, and even over the phone his deep chuckle started parts of me tingling that shouldn't be able to tingle any more. I had been referring to how he had brought me home and put me to bed, but now my thoughts were on the other things he had taken care of yesterday – as were his, obviously. His parents and brother were due home any moment, so he told me he would come pick me up for dinner later that afternoon. He warned me again about Emmett, and I just rolled my eyes at his concern.

I wandered downstairs to eat some breakfast. Charlie was sitting at the kitchen table reading his newspaper, a cup of coffee in front of him. "Good morning, Bella." He set the paper down. "You kind of worried me last night. Where's your truck?"

I poured some cereal and milk into a bowl and sat at the table with him. "Sorry, Dad. It's at Edward's." I shifted slightly and concentrated on my Cheerios. "I, uh, fell asleep at his house last night. He thought I was too tired to drive home, so he brought me. He's coming over later to pick me up for dinner at his house." I shifted again, fighting the blush caused by the subtle ache between my legs. I don't know why, but it was terribly embarrassing to sit across from my father while I could still feel the results of yesterday's thorough, and I hoped mutual, debauching.

"Hm." He eyed me, and I couldn't meet his gaze. "Good choice." He paused, and I risked a glance at him. He was smiling at me. "I'd much rather have you leave your truck somewhere than try to drive when it might not be safe." He grunted, picking up his newspaper. "Good to know that boy is taking care of you."

My cheeks blazed. I was sure his idea of Edward taking care of me vastly differed from mine. Visions from yesterday – soft touches, loud moans, and hands on bare flesh – flashed though my mind. _Holy hell_. I tried to act casual as I put my cereal bowl in the dishwasher and bolted for the stairs.

I spent the rest of the morning soaking in the bathtub. It wasn't anywhere near the same as the Cullens' Jacuzzi, but my muscles were a bit rubbery and the sensitive area between my legs was still sore. Every little bit helped. I planned on doing _that_ again with him as soon and as often as possible, and I was afraid that if I showed the slightest hint that I was still tender at all he would be too concerned to indulge us both. Silly, considerate boy.

Charlie was in the family room watching television when Edward came to the door to get me. I pressed a quick kiss to Charlie's cheek, asking him what he was up to for dinner.

"Don't worry about me, Bells," he said, and were his cheeks a little red? "I…uh, I'm having dinner with a friend tonight."

I raised a curious brow. He _was_ blushing. "Oh, good. Well, tell Sue hi for me, okay?" I grinned as the redness crept further along his cheeks, and he coughed into his hand.

Edward shook his head at me as he opened the passenger door of the Volvo.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing," he replied innocently, but was smiling as he pulled out onto the street. "It's not nice to tease your dad."

"Maybe I should have a little talk with Charlie about having a girl over when I'm not around," I mused, and he chuckled. "It's only fair, after all. See how he likes to have his daughter embarrass the crap out of him."

"Hmm." A smile still curved his full mouth. He slanted a look at me, putting his hand on my knee. "So, how are you feeling today?"

I felt the red flood my cheeks. "Um, well…pretty damn good, actually."

His hand slid up to the juncture of my thighs, pressing briefly at the seam of my jeans. I gritted my teeth as my flesh swelled and expanded. My body wanted to suck him in, in every sense of the word. "Jeez, Edward," I hissed, shifting uncomfortably.

He shifted, too, I was satisfied to note. He pulled into his driveway, parking next to my truck. He turned to me after shutting off the engine.

"Hi," he said softly, finally reaching for me.

"Hi," I returned, just as softly, and let him drag me across the console, right up against him.

"Really okay?" he asked, his head descending toward mine.

"Absolutely perfect," I murmured, and kissed him.

His mouth moved over mine, his tongue licking, teasing, and asking for more. I moaned quietly as I gave it to him. I felt the now-familiar clenching between my legs as his fingers traced my neck and slid into my hair, bringing my face harder to his. He finally broke away with a gasp, and I lurched forward at the loss of contact. He gazed down at me, his lips shiny and wet, his eyes tender, and touched my cheek with one fingertip.

"Love you," he murmured.

"Love you," I returned, mesmerized by his pretty face.

He smiled, a happy, serene smile, and my heart just burst with love for him. He got out of the truck, coming over to my side to help me. Normally I would have been slightly exasperated, if not downright annoyed, but my knees were feeling a little weak. Damn him.

"Okay," he said as we moved up the front walk to the door, rubbing his hands together. "This is your last warning. You are about to be embarrassed, harassed, poked, prodded, annoyed, pissed, amused, and probably physically tossed around. And that's just before dinner."

I laughed, grabbing his hand. "It's okay, Edward."

He stopped on the wide porch, his hand on the door handle, and grinned lopsidedly down at me. His other hand came up to touch my cheek. "No, it really isn't. But, I warned you. And I'll say it now, in case I'm incapable later. I'm really, really sorry." He shook his head, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

"Little brother!" boomed the giant standing in the foyer waiting for us. I froze.

He was huge – quite possibly the largest person I had seen in real life, ever. He was taller than Edward, and looked just about as wide. The muscles in his arms bulged and rippled as he rubbed his hands together and grinned at us. I recognized him from the cell phone photo Edward had sent to me at Thanksgiving. He was very handsome, with short, dark hair and piercing blue eyes – Carlisle's eyes. His long, thick legs were braced apart as he grinned at us and set his hands on his hips. Edward flinched, and I looked at him curiously.

"Emmett. This is Bella." He had a very cautious look on his face.

"Bella!" he boomed, and leaped at me, grabbing me in his arms and hugging me to his impossibly wide chest as he spun me around like a rag doll. I tried to meet Edward's pained expression as I was whirled around, and then just shut my eyes in self defense.

"Hi," I squeaked, wobbling as he set me back down. Edward grabbed my arm to steady me, scowling.

"Emmett, seriously, she's not a doll," he snapped, leading me down the hall and into the family room.

I glanced over my shoulder at Edward's older, larger brother, and he waggled his eyebrows suggestively. I stifled a laugh and stopped short again as I saw an amazingly beautiful woman sitting in one of the armchairs in the family room, a magazine in her lap. She was slim, with legs that went on forever tucked up underneath her. As we entered she looked up, her deep, navy eyes flicking over us before settling curiously on me. She absently twirled a piece of her long, wavy blond hair around a red-tipped finger.

Edward came to a stop and rubbed my arm. "Oh, ah, Rosalie, this is Bella. Bella, this is Rosalie Whitlock – Japer's sister and Emmett's girlfriend. Can't you do anything with him?" He jerked his thumb irritably at his brother.

She turned a fond smile on Emmett who preened ridiculously before she returned her attention to me. "No, not really. It's nice to meet you, Bella."

"Oh!" I realized I was staring at her. "You, too. I, uh, know your brother." _I know your brother_? That was brilliant. I was struck stupid by the perfection of her features.

"Yes, I imagine you do." I cringed, and she arched a brow at all of us before turning back to the magazine in her lap. She smirked. "I know your father."

Edward and I looked at each other with a laugh, but Emmett was confused.

"You do?" He asked, moving farther into the room. "How? Who's your father?"

"This is Bella _Swan_, Emmett," Rosalie said patiently, still reading her magazine. I saw her peek up at him, suppressing a smile. "Police Chief Charlie Swan's daughter?"

Emmett goggled at us, and I laughed. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he asked. "Chief Charlie's your dad? I love that dude. He's seen Rosie and me naked."

"Emmett, please," Edward said with a grimace. I was entertained.

"You're doing the nasty with Chief Charlie's daughter?" Emmett shook his head and slapped Edward on the back, causing him to stumble forward a step. "Gotta hand it to you, Little E. That takes some brass balls. I'm proud of ya, man."

"Emmett," Edward gritted again, turning red and grabbing his brother's hand where it was pounding on his back.

"Little E?" I questioned, looking at Emmett with a raised brow.

"Yeah, you know." He grinned and gestured down his body. "Big E." He flicked his hand at Edward and held his finger and thumb slightly apart. "And Little E."

"Emmett, I swear to fucking God…" Edward took a step forward.

"Just sayin'." Emmett rocked back on his heels, hands stuffed into his front pockets, grinning at his younger brother. I never would have thought of Edward as little anything – he was a pretty big guy – but Emmett made me actually rethink that position. He was ginormous.

He rubbed his dinner-platter hands together. "So, ready to take me on in _Guitar Hero_, Little E?"

Edward looked down at me and squeezed my hand. I shook my head. "I suck, sorry. You two go ahead."

Emmett snorted. "Yeah, Rosalie won't play, either. Doesn't want to ruin her nails," he finished in a high falsetto.

Rosalie raised her middle finger at him in a familiar gesture, showing off her perfect manicure. She slowly licked the tip and turned the page of her magazine – _International Journal of Mechanical Engineering_? – never looking up from her reading. Emmett eyed her suspiciously for a second, adjusted himself, and turned back to Edward.

"So, Half-Squat, you feeling lucky? Or are your hands too tired from jacking off?" He grinned evilly as Edward turned red and steam came out his ears. "What, you usually take a shower at midnight after coming back from your girlfriend's house, just because you're dirty?"

"That's it," Edward growled, tensing. "And don't call me Half-Squat!"

He launched himself at Emmett, and I fell back with a gasp. He bent low to ram his brother in the stomach with his head. Emmett chortled and grabbed his shoulders, flipping him around, and Edward somehow regained his balance to face Emmett on his toes. They were both grinning – were they crazy? I shot a glance at Rosalie, but she was completely ignoring them, absorbed in her reading. Emmett reached out with a looping left hook, and in an amazingly quick and impressive move, Edward actually caught his fist in his hand, his arms and shoulders bunching and straining with the effort. He twisted and spun around, somehow managing to get behind Emmett, and leaped onto his back. He wrapped his arm around Emmett's neck, his elbow around his brother's throat, grabbing his fist in the other hand to get enough leverage to tighten his hold and choke him.

Emmett was laughing and gasping as he slowly began to turn red. He was staggering around the room, trying to shake Edward loose. Edward clung to his back like a monkey, cackling maniacally and hanging on for dear life. Emmett crashed backwards into a wall, shaking the pictures hanging there and rattling the table with breakable things on it. Edward grunted at the impact but clung desperately, slowly tightening his choke-hold. I started to get a little alarmed as Emmett's laughter faded into gasping wheezes and he began to turn purple. Esme walked in the room, sweeping by them with a plate of hors d'ouerves.

"Hello, Bella. Edward, get off your brother. Dinner is in fifteen minutes." She set the plate down in front of Rosalie and walked back toward the kitchen, placing her hand on my shoulder and giving a friendly squeeze in passing.

Emmett flung Edward off, flipping him over his head. Edward landed with a floor-shaking thud and a loud groan, spread out full-length in front of me. Emmett staggered over to the sofa next to Rosalie and dropped onto it, rubbing his throat and heaving in air. I cautiously walked over to Edward and peered down into his face. It was contorted into a grimace, but he blinked his green eyes open to stare at me in bleary amusement.

"Teach him to call me Half-Squat," he panted, and I shook my head as I extended my hand. He gripped it, pulling himself to a sitting position before yanking me into his lap.

"Whoa, easy there, monkey boy," Emmett rasped. "I can still see you guys from here, you know. No getting freaky in the family room before dinner. The shower will always be there for you later."

"Fuck off, Emmett," Edward groaned, pushing me upright and standing next to me. He staggered into the kitchen, and I followed, shaking my head.

I helped Esme set the kitchen table, and Rosalie wandered in to help. She was actually very nice and had a wicked sense of humor, which I had suspected considering that she put up with Emmett. She had to have the patience of a saint. She could quell his antics with just an arched eyebrow, when all the blustering from the rest of his family bounced off his thick hide. It was fascinating to see Emmett squirm at a pointed look from her.

Esme served a fragrant and delicious baked chicken with fresh vegetables for dinner. She and I discussed the recipe and some of our other favorites. Edward and Dr. Cullen were involved in a quiet but intense discussion about something that had happened at the hospital during his dad's shift. Emmett ate voraciously and looked slightly bored. He perked up when he heard my conversation with Esme turn to Christmas dinner.

"Your father is still planning on stopping by tomorrow, right?" she asked me, handing the bowl of veggies to Edward.

"Yeah, he'll be here early. He's going to head down to La Push for dinner. I think he wants to spend time with Sue Clearwater. I'm pretty sure they're dating, but he's being pretty quiet about it." I shrugged. "I hope they are. I really like Sue."

"Your dad's coming for Christmas?" Emmett looked positively gleeful and nudged Rose. "Maybe we should get naked in the living room, just for old time's sake."

She shot him a dirty look. Dr. Cullen scowled, Edward rolled his eyes, I giggled, and Esme smacked him in the back of the head. "Emmett Dale Cullen!"

He rubbed his head where she hit him, but his gaze turned crafty as it shifted to Edward. "If her dad's coming…" he jerked his chin toward me and leaned back in his chair to rummage in his front pocket. "You'd better be more careful with your stuff. I found these in the laundry."

He tossed a couple of condom packets on the table. They hit with a small thud and skidded across the smooth wood to ricochet off Edward's plate, spinning in place before coming to a standstill near his knife. He froze, his eyes wide and focused on them in uncomprehending horror, his fork halfway to his mouth. Dr. Cullen coughed, and I turned red in mortification, swinging my hair forward to cover my face. Esme stood, and Rose glared at him.

"You do laundry?" she demanded. "Since when?"

"Emmett." Dr. Cullen's voice was soft. "That is completely inappropriate, even for you, at your mother's dinner table. Bella is a guest, and that is unspeakably rude."

"Looks like she's more like family," Emmett snickered, nodding at the condoms on the table.

Esme reached over and tweaked his ear, and he yelped. She walked around the table to Edward – I couldn't even look at him as I stared down at the remains of my dinner – but I saw her surreptitiously knock the condoms into his lap when she picked up his plate. She pressed a kiss to the top of his coppery head as she took the dishes to the sink, and I saw his face tilt slightly as he shot a look at me. I bit my lip.

"At least he has the sense to get the 'For Her Pleasure' ones." Rose finally broke the silence. "Nice going, Sprout."

Dr. Cullen coughed back a laugh, covering his mouth with his napkin, his eyes watering. Emmett's mouth opened and closed a couple of times, and finally Edward barked out a startled laugh. He pushed back from the table and took my hand. The condoms were nowhere to be seen.

"May we be excused?" He arched a brow at his dad.

Dr. Cullen waved us away, still coughing into his napkin and nodding his head vigorously. Rosalie was grinning and she winked at me, while Emmett spluttered.

"That's it?" he demanded.

There was a solid _thunk_ and an "ow!' from Emmett. I looked back over my shoulder to see Rosalie twisting his ear, whispering intently to him while his eyes watered and he started to whine like a two year old. I shook my head, following Edward as he dragged me up the stairs to his room and threw himself on the leather sofa.

"God, I'm so sorry," he said, rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair. His shoulders were shaking with laughter, and I couldn't help joining in as I flopped down next to him.

I snickered. "Oh shit, Edward, the look on your face…" I fell into helpless giggles as I pictured the look of shocked horror he wore when the condoms bounced off his plate. "I think we should have those bronzed or something."

He shuddered. "I tried to warn you," he groaned, and then looked up and grinned sheepishly. "At least he'll get his from Rosalie."

"Rosalie?" I frowned. "Why? Is she mad?"

He arched a heavy brow at me, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "Bella, I don't leave condoms in my jeans. And Rosalie knows Emmett doesn't do laundry."

I stared at him uncomprehendingly. "Then where did he find them?"

He nodded toward his nightstand drawer. "He was snooping. And he set us up, the asswipe. Don't worry." He stood and gripped my knee as he moved toward his desk. "Rosalie'll get him. And I have something I've been wanting to try for a while…" his voice trailed off as he sat down and opened his laptop.

We eventually went back downstairs for dessert – apple crumble – and I was somewhat relieved to see that Emmett was nowhere in sight.

"They're watching a movie," Esme explained with a smile as I put our dishes in the dishwasher. "You can join them if you want."

"No," Edward said definitively, and we went back upstairs to the music room. I spent a couple of very pleasant hours listening to him strum his guitar, and he tried to teach me some chords. It was getting late when he put the instrument away and we went back across the hall to his bedroom to get my shoes and jacket.

"Thanks for coming," he said, sitting on the sofa and pulling me down into his lap.

"It was interesting meeting your brother. And Rosalie – she seems nice. She's beautiful."

"Mmm." He nuzzled under my ear. I put my arms around his neck and tilted my head to give him better access. His lips soon followed, trailing down the sensitive tendon, and I gave a hum of my own.

I rolled my head and met his mouth. He kissed me softly, gently, before increasing pressure and his tongue slid deep. I shifted in his lap, holding his head tighter, sighing into his mouth as the familiar electricity shot through me, and then I heard a loud cough. I leaned back, blinking at him in surprise. How could he cough with his tongue in my mouth? His eyes were narrowed, and the muscle in his jaw was flexing.

"Emmett," he growled. I spun around in his lap to look behind me.

Emmett stood in the doorway, looking like a cartoon version of a little kid on steroids, his huge frame wrapped in a thick blanket so only his face showed. He walked into Edward's room and threw himself down on the bed.

"I'm bored," he whined.

"Not my problem," Edward said from between his teeth. "Go bother Rosalie."

"She went back to the Whitlock estate. She's pissed – won't let me sneak in later tonight." He gave a pitiful sigh, and when it didn't get a reaction he peered at us. "Besides, this looks more interesting than TV or watching Carlisle read." His hand came out from under the blanket and waved languidly. "Just go on with what you were doing. Don't mind me." He stared at us avidly.

Edward sighed and rose, helping me to my feet. "You might as well go home. He's not going to budge until we leave."

"Bye, Bella!" Emmett's cheerful voice came out from under the blanket. "See you tomorrow! Say, Edward, do you want me start the shower for you? Oh, wait, I guess you won't need to let it warm up, right? Cold will be fine?"

Edward stopped on his way out of his room and shook his head. He tugged on my hand and continued out the door.

"It's been so peaceful with him gone," he sighed.

**-0-**

The next morning, Christmas morning, dawned bright and unseasonably warm. I rose early to get ready to head over to Edward's house. I wanted to help Esme with all the preparations and start on my pies. It didn't make sense to start making them here and then take them over there to bake. Besides, this way I could make an early breakfast if anyone was interested. They had all done so much for me, making me feel welcome and part of the family. It was the least I could do for them.

I made it down to the kitchen, noticing Charlie had plugged in the lights on the Christmas tree in the corner of the family room. It was small and sparsely decorated with both homemade and store bought ornaments we had collected over the years. I couldn't help comparing it in my head to the tall, thick, gaily decorated monstrosity at Edward's house. Ours might not be as magnificent, but it was exactly right for me and Charlie.

"Merry Christmas, daughter of mine." Charlie appeared in the archway between the family room and kitchen. "You're up early."

"Merry Christmas, Dad." I rose up on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek, the familiar scent of his shaving cream and soap bringing a smile to my face. "I'm going over to Edward's. I need to get started on the pies. Do you want breakfast? I've got stuff to make waffles."

"No, but thanks." He held his coffee cup up in the air. "This is all I need for now. You've got your mom's present to open," Charlie reminded me.

I arched a brow at him; his Christmas present to me was conspicuously absent. He met my gaze before smiling sheepishly and rubbing the back of his neck. "I, uh…I'll give you your present later, okay?" He gestured at the stocking hanging on the mantle over the fireplace. "There're some little ones in there."

We opened our gifts, making the appropriate noises of pleasure and appreciation. I had gotten him a new fly-fishing vest, one with all of the bells and whistles. He tried it on and then started attaching all of his necessary fishing equipment, so I knew he was pleased. My mom had gotten me a small digital camera – a blatant hint, I knew, to send pictures of me and Edward. My stocking held cables to attach the camera to my computer, software for digital scrapbooking, and other small treasures. I called my mom and Phil to wish them a happy holiday and thank them for my camera before heading upstairs to get ready.

"I'm heading over to Edward's," I called to my dad a short time later. "You'll be over about noon?"

"Yeah." Charlie was in the hall, scratching his head and pulling on his jacket. "I'm just going to run into the station for a little bit to make sure everything's going okay and then I'll be there."

"Okay." I leaned up and pressed a brief kiss to his cheek. "Be careful. I'll see you later."

"Always am," he said absently, helping me carry my bag of supplies out to my truck. I got in and drove to Edward's, waving at him as he headed the other direction toward the police station.

The front door was open slightly when I got to the Cullens'. I pushed it further with my foot and looked inside. "Hello?"

No one was around, but I could hear faint movement coming from the upper levels. I carried my overstuffed bag into the kitchen and unloaded what I would need to make breakfast and the pies later. I felt comfortable rummaging around for the waffle iron as Esme had told me I was welcome to over this morning and invade her kitchen. I paused, listening curiously, and heard sounds coming from upstairs. I shrugged and began making breakfast.

I had four waffles warming in the oven and was starting on the next batch when I heard an awful thumping and rumbling coming from the staircase. I looked up to see Emmett running down the hall and skidding into the kitchen. He slid to a stop with a surprised look.

"Hey, Bella. I didn't realize you were going to be here this early." He stood in the middle of the kitchen and rubbed the back of his neck, looking around.

"Um, do you want some waffles?" I asked, putting the four that were done on a plate and setting it on the breakfast bar next to the warmed syrup.

He looked torn, and then inhaled appreciatively. "Yeah, I guess I have a few seconds…"

He grabbed the plate, dumping an impressive amount of syrup on the waffles. He began shoveling them into his mouth, still standing, casting glances down the hall as he inhaled the food. I stood with the spatula in one hand and stared at him, openmouthed.

"EMMETT!" The roar came from the third floor. I recognized Edward's enraged tone.

Emmett snickered, promptly began choking, and staggered toward the door to the garage.

"My cue to leave," he wheezed. "Thanks, Bella, those were great. See you later!" He disappeared, but his head poked back around the corner only a few seconds later. "Oh yeah, and you probably want to throw away that bottle of warming lube he has in his nightstand drawer. You see, I hadn't met you when I…_ahem_… but now I like you, Bella, and I wouldn't want…" he grimaced. "Well, just throw it out right away, okay? Bye!" This time I heard the garage door slam.

I just stood in the middle of the kitchen with the spatula dangling from my hand, staring at where Emmett had disappeared. I slowly spun on my heel as I heard pounding and spluttering coming from the hallway. Edward charged into view, bare-chested, damp from his shower, his hair sticking up all over the place – more so than usual – and a mask of fury on his features. I stared at him as he skidded to a stop and took a deep breath.

"Bella! I didn't know you were here." His features had softened somewhat when he saw me but the fury came back instantly. "Where the fuck is Emmett?" he growled.

I raised my arm and pointed out the window as his Volvo went hurtling backwards down the driveway. It paused and gave two merry toots before zipping away down the street.

A growl erupted from his chest and his fists clenched at his sides. "I can't fucking believe he took my fucking car," he said softly, dangerously.

He unclenched his fists after a moment and turned to face me. "Sorry, sorry." He ran his hand through his hair and froze, grimacing. I watched in shock as he jerked his hand down and brought it to his nose, sniffing suspiciously. What the hell?

I stared at him, my eyes drifting down to take in his perfect, bare chest and low slung jeans. He hadn't taken the time to button them up all the way, and it was obvious he was, well, _commando_. I swallowed and dropped the spatula on the floor.

"Are you making waffles?" He moved toward me, and I watched his jeans slide a little farther down his hips, exposing more of that wonderful male cleavage and happy, happy trail. "It smells great, Bella."

I nodded, not able to look away from where his loose jeans gaped open, exposing his hard belly. He lifted his arms, and I noticed he had a T-shirt in his hands. He started to pull it up over his arms.

"No!" I shouted. "Wait! Where is everyone?"

He paused, cocking a brow. "Mom and Dad went for a quick walk. And Emmett…" he scowled.

I was finally able to move, and move I did, right up against his chest. "Hi," I whispered.

He cocked his lopsided smirk at me and dropped the T-shirt on the floor. "Hi, yourself."

I leaned up on tiptoes to kiss him, and he held me with an appreciative hum. As he deepened the kiss, he moved me back against the counter. I slid my hands up the delicious bare skin of his chest, brushing along his neck to fist hard in his hair, just the way he liked. I pulled away, though, at the unfamiliar texture.

"What _is_ in your hair?" I asked with a grimace, and he jerked away from me.

"Fucking Emmett!" He spun for the phone and dialed, punching the buttons angrily.

I found myself sniffing at my fingers much like he had done to his own. I had no idea what had happened this morning, but it couldn't be good. I walked over to the sink and washed my hands while I unabashedly eavesdropped on his conversation.

"Hi Rosalie – no, it's Edward. Yeah, hi. Look, Emmett's on his way over, but I just wanted to let you know, when you come over this afternoon? Yeah, just don't use the bathroom in his room, okay? No, no, I'm not saying anything. Just…fair warning, okay? Yeah, I'll tell you later. Um, no. See you, bye."

He smiled, and it wasn't pretty. "I'll be back down in a few minutes, okay? Sorry, will the waffles hold?"

I nodded, and he brushed by me, kissing the tip of my nose. I heard him chuckling to himself as he took the stairs two at a time. I had no idea what was going on in that clever little mind of his, and I was fairly certain I didn't want to know.

By the time he came back down to the kitchen he was fully clothed, and his parents had returned from their walk. Esme thanked me profusely for making breakfast, which caused me to blush and duck my head as I served the waffles. Edward and his dad both made the exact same sounds of pleasure as they ate, while his mom and I exchanged amused glances. After everyone had finished with breakfast, we cleaned up the kitchen and began preparations for the holiday meal. Edward hung around for a little while, basically getting in our way before wandering off to watch football with his dad.

Charlie made his appearance a little bit before noon. He looked slightly uncomfortable until Carlisle welcomed him in his friendly, genuine manner. Charlie glanced around the foyer with a wry grin of amusement.

"It's different being here, not in an official capacity," he joked, and Carlisle laughed.

"Emmett will be here later," he told my dad. "He was looking forward to seeing you again." They both chuckled at this, and Carlisle put his hand on Charlie's shoulder, guiding him into the great room.

"Hello, Chief Swan." Edward rose from where he had been lounging on the sofa, extending his hand for a brief shake. "Merry Christmas."

"You, too, son." Charlie sat in front of the high-definition television, and was instantly absorbed in the flat screen display.

"Hello, Charlie," Esme greeted him warmly, coming out from the kitchen with a tray of snack foods. "Happy holidays. Can I get you anything to drink? A soda or a beer?"

"Hello, Esme. Thanks for having me over. A soda would be great."

I got a Coke out of the refrigerator and poured it into a tall glass with some ice. "Go sit down with them," Esme told me. "We're pretty much done. All I have to do is put everything in the ovens at the right times."

"Are you sure?" I asked, glancing around the once again spotless kitchen. I wasn't sure how she managed that trick. She had to be part witch. A twitch of her nose and everything was back in its place.

"I'm sure, Bella. Go. Sit." She gave me an affectionate squeeze and pushed me through the archway into the great room.

I paused for a second, absorbing the sight in front of me. Charlie, Edward, and Carlisle were all involved in an in-depth conversation, sitting on the edges of their respective seats, leaning in toward one another. They traded their attention from each other to what was happening on the screen, gesturing expansively. I watched, my heart swelling with love to see them interacting with such ease and enjoyment. Charlie's thick, rough hands punched the air with his laughter, Edward's longer fingers gestured gracefully but with no less force, and Carlisle's, so similar to his son's but without his particular elegance, were a counterpoint to both.

"Hey, Dad," I greeted him as I set the drink down on a coaster on the table in front of him. He was sitting on the loveseat, Carlisle in his favorite chair. Edward was sitting on the larger sofa in the center, and scooted over to make room for me. I lowered my head and sat, keeping a cautious eye on Charlie. Edward settled me comfortably next to him, close against his side, and casually threw his arm over my shoulders. Charlie watched this with a faintly amused expression before giving me a small wink. He turned his attention back to the football game and his conversation with Carlisle.

Our comfortable little scene was interrupted by the front door being flung open and Emmett bounding into the room, followed much more decorously by Rosalie.

"Chief Swan!" he boomed, grabbing Charlie's hand and shaking it enthusiastically. "Man, it's good to see you again. It's kind of weird to see you here without your uniform, though, huh?"

"I was just saying that," Charlie commented wryly, standing up to return the greeting. "It's kind of weird to see you with all of your clothes on and in their proper place."

Emmett threw his head back and laughed, while Rosalie shook hers. She greeted my dad with a lovely smile, and Esme made an appearance out of the kitchen.

"I think it's present opening time," she said, giving me and Edward a smile.

I frowned up at him. "Presents?"

"We opened ours earlier," he explained. "But my mom and dad got something for you. I did, too," he said with a grin. It widened as he took in my suddenly nervous expression. "Relax, Bella, and enjoy. It is Christmas, after all."

"You didn't have to get me anything," I whispered as Esme went to retrieve the brightly wrapped packages from under the tree. "Your parents _really_ didn't have to get me anything."

"Quiet," he admonished, sitting forward as his mother approached. She stacked a small pile of gifts on the table in front of me, and everyone gathered around.

I wiped my hands nervously on my jean-clad legs, and Edward took one, giving it a reassuring squeeze before releasing me so that I could take a small, flat box from Esme.

"Open this one first," she said with a smile. "The others will make better sense if you do."

"Oh. Okay." I set the box on my lap, staring at it warily before glancing up at Edward. He sighed and rolled his eyes, making a move as if he was going to take it from me.

"Do you want me to open it for you? Go on, it won't bite."

I bit my lip and carefully slid my finger under the flap of wrapping paper. "I'll probably end up slicing my finger open and bleeding to death," I joked.

"It's okay," Emmett said, gesturing at his father. "Emergency Room doc, remember?"

"Oh, yeah." I gave Dr. Cullen a smile before returning my attention to the present. I managed to open it without incident, and lifted the cover of the box to see printed pieces of stiff paper inside. I turned it so that I could read the printing, and then looked up at his mom and dad in shock.

"Airline tickets?" I asked in confusion. I glanced back down to read more closely. "To Los Angeles?"

"They're so you can come with us to Emmett's game next week – the National Championship game," Dr. Cullen explained. "If you'd like to go, that is. It's at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena this year."

I stared at him and Esme in shock. "I'd love to go! But…" my voice trailed off as I looked at Charlie.

"We talked about it before they bought the tickets for you," he said. "You'll probably miss a couple of days for school, but I figured that'd be okay." He grinned.

"Oh, my God, thank you! Thank you! I get to go with you!" I glanced up at Edward to see he was smiling widely, and then jumped up to give his mom and dad enthusiastic hugs. "This is amazing!"

Carlisle and Esme were beaming, as were Emmett and Rosalie. "C'mon," Edward said, patting the cushion next to him where I had just been sitting. "There's more."

"More?" I asked dazedly, holding the tickets to my chest. I was going to go on vacation with him, to California. We wouldn't have to be separated after all. It was the best present, ever.

"Yeah." I sat down next to him again, and he placed a large box in my lap. I glanced at the tag and saw it was from Charlie. I looked at him in surprise, and he just gestured at the wrapped package with a grin. I pulled off the paper, noticing the name of a boutique in Port Angeles embossed on the lid of the box. I glanced up at Charlie again in question and saw that his cheeks were red. I pulled the top off, and inside was a variety of colorful fabrics. I pulled each item out and examined them.

"Alice, uh, she picked most of it," Charlie explained uncomfortably. "We thought maybe you'd like some new things to take on your trip with you."

There were a couple pairs of shorts and matching shirts, a bright sundress, and a new bathing suit – a one piece, but at first glance it appeared a lot of pieces were missing. I dropped it quickly back in the box. "Wow. Thanks, Dad. It's a great idea." I got up and gave him a hug, too.

"One more," Edward said, gesturing to the last of the presents sitting on the table. I settled next to him again, picking up the small box. I raised a brow when I saw my name printed on the tag in his elegant script. He just smiled and leaned forward to watch me tear the paper.

I opened it carefully, exposing a small jewelry box. I stared at it, curiosity, excitement, and horror at what it could contain coursing through me. I just knew it would be expensive and over-the-top.

I flipped open the lid, and saw a delicate necklace displayed on the dark velvet. It was a beautiful piece of colored glass, deep, dark blue with opalescent colors swirling through the center. It was encased in fine silver threads, and hung from a thin silver cable. I stared in wonder. It was beautiful.

"It reminded me of the hair things you wear." His smooth voice broke though my stunned daze. "You like blue, right?" He sounded a bit worried as I just sat there, staring at it.

"It's gorgeous," I whispered, and finally managed to meet his gaze. "I love it, Edward. Thank you." I leaned forward to kiss him softly, and then turned my back, taking the necklace from the box and lifting my hair. "Put it on for me?"

He carefully fastened the delicate chain around my neck. I turned back to him with a wobbly smile, fingering the glass pendant and looking at him questioningly.

"It looks great," he assured me.

I turned to the rest of the family, and everyone ohh'd and ahh'd over his gift.

"I have one for you, too," I told him shyly, getting up and moving toward the foyer. "It's in my coat." I retrieved the package and returned to the living room, feeling slightly nervous again with everyone watching us.

He took the box from me, shaking it exaggeratedly and holding it up to his ear. I smiled, reclaiming my seat next to him, watching as he tore through the wrapping paper with enthusiasm. He turned the exposed case over in his big hands before opening it with a delighted grin.

"The sunglasses!" he exclaimed, taking them out and sliding them over his eyes. "Wow, I can't believe you remembered."

I stared at him, heat coiling in my belly. As if I could forget the afternoon we'd spent in Port Angeles with Jasper and Alice, going to dinner and hanging out afterward. We'd wandered into a shop that sold a bunch of different sunglasses, and Alice and I had watched as the boys tried on a variety of pairs. The Ray-Bans had sat on his finely etched features like pure sex. Oh yeah, I remembered.

Rose gathered the discarded wrapping paper despite my protests, and she and Esme went to finish the last of the dinner preparations. Emmett plopped his large body on the sofa with Edward and me, ignoring Edward's scowl and putting his arm around my shoulders, too. I sat sandwiched between those two warm, male bodies while they talked pro and college football until Charlie had to leave for LaPush.

He rose to thank Esme for her hospitality, and I followed him into the kitchen. I became aware of Edward behind me as we all walked Charlie to the front door.

"Thank you again, Esme. I'm sorry I have to go so soon, but it was nice seeing you."

"It was nice seeing you again, Charlie. You're welcome any time." She smiled her warm smile at him, and he blushed slightly.

With a small cough, he turned to me. "Have fun, Bells. Be good. I..uh, well…I'm not sure what time I'll be back tonight…" The red color high on his cheekbones spread across his face. I had my suspicions, but…I really didn't want to go there. Just…ick. I really liked Sue Clearwater, but no child wants to think of their parent having an actual sex life.

"Charlie, why doesn't Bella spend the night here? If you don't mind? Then you won't have to worry about either of you getting home at any particular time." Esme's voice was soft and gracious.

Charlie's blush deepened. He ran his hand over the back of his neck and looked at me sheepishly. "Oh. Well, I guess so. Is that okay with you, Bells?"

Okay with me? Let's see…a parent approved overnight stay with Edward? Um…"Yes. Yes, that's just fine with me, Dad."

"Oh. Good. Well…" he stepped forward and gave me a hug. "Merry Christmas, Bella. Love you. Be good."

I rolled my eyes but smiled as he made his way to his truck. We all waved as he backed down the driveway and went back into the house when he was out of sight.

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**Next chapter, it's Edward's turn to act out some of his inner musings...**

**"God. I've had such fantasies of you against my sofa like that."**


	21. Chapter 21: Long Bomb

**Stephenie Meyer's characters. I'm just playing with them.**

**silentnc and Sarahsumbrella beta this story and make it what you read here. Thank you, guys. **

**Sarah also helps me with my Twitter-tarded-ness. Thanks, bb.**

**Major Misconduct was rec'd for this week's Fictionator Friday - go check out the really lovely reviews on the site by nicnicd and Kassiah, and the other great stories they're rec'ing (I've been reading Legendary by WhatsMyNomDePlume - **_**love**_** it!) http:/www . fictionators . com (take out the spaces) Thank you, Fictionators!**

* * *

**CHAPTER 21: Long Bomb**

Esme, Rosalie, and I drifted into the kitchen to finish preparing dinner after Charlie left, and Edward and Emmett disappeared upstairs. This concerned me a great deal. I kept casting cautious glances at the ceiling. No one else seemed worried, though, and I didn't hear any ominous noises coming from the upper floors, so after a little while I began to relax. It was really entertaining to talk with Esme and Rosalie; they were so much fun and had hilarious stories to tell about the boys and growing up together. I learned that General and Mrs. Whitlock were spending the holidays with some old friends in a more tropical locale, and that Jasper was staying with Alice and her family for the holiday. He'd mentioned to Edward that they might stop by later.

When we finally had everything ready to eat we summoned the men to the table. Carlisle came into the dining area right away, but both Edward and Emmett had to be called over the intercom a couple of times. My worry returned. I looked them over as they came around the corner from the foyer. Emmett was scowling, and Edward was trying to hide a grin. He had suspicious red marks on his neck and arms, and his hair was an even bigger mess than usual. We all sat at the table that was loaded with food, and Edward kissed my cheek as he sat in the chair next to me with a cheerful smirk. I glanced over at Emmett and gasped in horror.

He'd bent and turned his head to listen to something Rosalie was saying. All motion and sound at the table slowly ceased. I glanced up with wide eyes to see Carlisle and Esme staring at his head in shock.

There was a wide, naked strip on his scalp, from the crown of his head down to the top of one ear. It was about as wide as a pair of clipper blades. Edward paused to see what we were all staring at, and his smirk grew.

"Could you pass me the mashed potatoes, Dad?" he asked.

Carlisle turned narrowed eyes on his youngest son. "What the hell have you two been doing?" he asked in a low, scary voice.

Esme's hand had gone to her mouth, and Emmett turned a now smug look at his brother.

"What?" Rosalie asked in confusion, her gaze swinging from Carlisle's face, to Esme's, to mine. She saw that Esme was still staring in shock at Emmett, and she grabbed his chin, turning his head to see what was causing such a commotion. She saw the shaved strip and yelped.

"Now you're gonna get it," Emmett said to Edward with great satisfaction. I stared at Rosalie in concern, my hands hovering in the air next to him in an instinctual urge to protect him. I didn't know what I could do, though; I didn't think anything could stop Rosalie once she got going.

"Is this what you were talking about earlier?" she asked Edward, her eyes never leaving Emmett's head.

"Yep." Edward was much too cheerful considering what was about to befall him.

Rose narrowed her eyes, tapping a fingernail on her lip thoughtfully. "Good one." When Emmett made a sound of protest, she just smacked him and let go of his face. "You deserved it after what you did to his hair gel this morning. My advice is to keep your helmet on next week when you're on national television."

"Would someone like to explain what is going on here?" Carlisle asked, splitting his gaze between his two sons.

Emmett pouted, now that the wrath of Rosalie wasn't descending on Edward. "No," he said sullenly.

Edward raised a brow at him before turning his innocent face to his parents. "Nothing, Dad. Mom, this smells great."

Carlisle's gaze was still narrowed on him, but Esme began passing platters.

"Well, come on and eat before it gets cold," she told us.

"Paybacks are a bitch," Emmett hissed.

"Yeah, they are, aren't they?" Edward returned with a meaningful look.

"Just wait. Nair in you shampoo bottle would be awesome. Wonder how you'd look bald."

"No!" My protest was automatic and horrified. "Not the hair!"

There were chuckles all around the table, and I had to grin in self-conscious reaction. "Sorry," I said, placing my hand over the top of his head, the soft rust locks tickling my palm. I'd be devastated if they were gone. "But I'm calling the hair off-limits."

Emmett smirked. "At least Rose has her priorities straight. She called my balls off-limits."

"I'm sure Edward can take care of his own balls." I heard the words come out of my mouth with a kind of faint dismay. "I'm calling the hair."

There was a shocked silence before everyone laughed until there were tears their eyes. I couldn't believe I'd said that out loud. I cringed in embarrassment. Edward hugged me and Emmett grabbed me after he was done, giving me a warm squeeze.

"Good one, Bella. You'll do."

I smiled in secret pleasure, and Esme tried to cast us all a stern look through her amusement. "Christmas dinner, people," she reminded us. "Can we not talk about any of our intimate body parts at the table, please? Just this once?""

After eating way too much of all of the amazing food, the guys shooed us away so they could clear the dishes and clean the kitchen. I was pleasantly surprised at their insistence, until I heard scuffling and Carlisle's raised voice.

"I swear to God, you'd think they were still twelve years old," Esme huffed, giving an exasperated roll of her eyes. She stood, saying to Rosalie, "Stop after the first boy. I'm just warning you."

Rosalie and I exchanged wide-eyed looks, and she shrugged, bewildered. Esme walked swiftly toward the kitchen and yelled, "If even one of my dishes is broken, you'll all be sorry!"

Rose and I managed to hold our giggles until she was out of earshot. "Are they always like this?" I asked.

She tipped her head, still grinning. "Yeah, pretty much, especially when they've been apart for a while. They'll settle down after the novelty wears off, don't worry."

We chatted amiably for a little while. She told me about her and Emmett's apartment in San Diego and the constant parade of NFL scouts, the boosters that were wining and dining them, and how excited she was that everything was going so well for him. Rose was enthusiastic, talking about the upcoming National Championship game. She seemed really excited I was going with them, which made me feel good. I was impressed and excited to learn about all of the details. It sounded like a fun trip, and I was happy to be included with the family.

A little while later, Edward came into the room to where we sat, looking somewhat wetter than he had before but pretty much all in one piece. He exchanged a look with Rose, and she grinned as she stood, heading for the kitchen.

"What's up?" I asked. "That was nice of you to help clean."

He shrugged, pulling me to my feet. "It's tradition in the Cullen household. Do you want to run to your house and get some stuff to spend the night?" He lifted his eyebrows with a suggestive leer.

"I was just going to sleep naked," I said innocently, and he gaped at me. I laughed. "Ha – just kidding. I guess I do need a few things."

"I just talked to Jasper. If it's okay with you, I told him we'd stop by Alice's on our way back here."

"Fine with me," I told him. I had Alice's Christmas gift in my car.

He pushed me toward the front door, hollering over his shoulder, "We'll be back soon!"

"Be careful," Esme's voice admonished us as he grabbed our jackets out of the coat closet.

After I retrieved Alice's gift we got into the Volvo and drove to my house. The streets were quiet, the light softly glowing as it faded into dusk. Edward held my hand, twining his fingers with mine and placing our joined hands on the hard swell of his thigh. I turned my face away to grin like an idiot out the passenger window. I couldn't imagine being any happier. I loved my life.

He only let go of me to get out of the car, joining our palms together once again as we met to walk up the sidewalk and porch together. I fished the key out of my pocket with my other hand, pushing open the door and entering the dark, silent house. He was quiet as he followed me up the stairs to my room, and I glanced at his handsome face curiously. He met my look with a serene smile, one I couldn't help returning.

"Okay?" I asked as I entered my room, going to the closet and dropping to my knees to search for the small duffel bag I knew was in there somewhere.

"Fine," he returned in a husky voice. He had paused at the foot of my bed and stood tall in the dim light, staring down at me.

"What?" I asked, pushing the hair behind my ear self-consciously.

"Nothing," he said softly. "I'm just thinking how different this Christmas is than last year. It's a whole lot better spending it with you."

I rocked back on my heels, staring at him. It just never, ever ceased to amaze me, that this beautiful boy was mine. "Edward…" my voice was thick with sudden emotion.

One side of his mouth lifted slightly and he held out his hand. "Let me help you," he said, gesturing to the duffel bag in my hand. I turned my attention to it in surprise; I hadn't even realized I'd grabbed it. He pulled me to my feet, bringing me in close against him, and slowly lowered his mouth to mine. I heard a dreamy sigh – I wasn't sure if it was him or me making that happy, needy sound – and I let the warm, thrilling sensation of kissing Edward fill me.

His hands spread over my back, hugging me tight, and his mouth and tongue dug deep, exploring every last sensation, bringing it forth and seeking more. I was lightheaded, a fiery burn scorching my heart. His taste was amazing. His scent fogged my brain. The intimate feel of him against my body, my mouth, in my soul, was indescribable. I loved this boy, and my heart ached with it..

We eventually parted, panting, needing to breathe. I clung to his strong arms until the room righted itself around me.

"Wow," I gasped, resting my forehead against his chest. It rose and fell rapidly under my cheek, his heart thundering against my ear. My own pounded even harder at this evidence that he was just as affected as I was.

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head after our breathing returned to normal. "Come on," he said softly. "We've got all night."

I leaned back to look into his smiling face and returned the grin. He bent to pick up the duffel where he had dropped it on the floor, and we packed it with the things I would need for an overnight stay. Edward took great interest in my lingerie drawer—yes, I actually had a drawer filled with nothing but lingerie now. I batted at his hands and pushed him out of the way when he began rifling through the lacey things inside.

"Stop it! You're going to ruin everything. I want to have some surprises left for you!" I was giggling and out of breath as he playfully wrestled with me.

"It'll give me some material for fantasies," he told me, easily holding both of my wrists in one hand while he tried to look over my head into the drawer.

"You don't need any more material," I gasped, leaning into him, and he reluctantly let me push him away from the dresser. "I've seen your porn drawer, remember?"

He groaned dramatically. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"Oh, hell no," I assured him cheerfully. "Actually, I was hoping we could try some of it tonight."

He squinted at me, color touching the blades of his cheekbones, and his breathing deepened. "What did I do to deserve you?" he asked wonderingly.

"Ha." I picked up my bag, but he snagged it neatly from my hands and slung it casually over his shoulder. I shook my head, but knew, as always, arguing with him about carrying my stuff was a fruitless endeavor. I froze as a potentially terrifying thought occurred to me. "Where is Emmett sleeping?"

"He'll be at Rosalie's most of the night – if not all night. Don't worry about him."

"Okay, then, where am I sleeping?" I asked as I followed him down the stairs.

"Well, we have a guest suite over the garage," he said, pausing on the porch to watch me lock the door behind us.

"Of course you do," I mumbled mockingly. "A guest suite. Doesn't everyone?" He glared at me in playful warning, and I rolled my eyes. "Oh, sorry. Go on."

"Like I was saying," he continued with meaningful exaggeration. "We have a guest suite over the garage, but I'm thinking I can convince the parental unit to let you sleep on the pull-out bed in the music room. What?" he added at my incredulous look.

"You think they'll really let me sleep anywhere near your room, all alone, on your private floor, three stories above them?"

"Yeah," he smirked. "I'm thinking they will. It's very quiet – and very private – up there." He arched a brow. "You can't hear anything from the main floor. " I blushed as we walked toward the Volvo. "It's different, being the parents of boys," he continued, and I tilted my head in acknowledgment of his reasoning. "Besides, after Emmett's little scene at the dinner table the other night with the condom, it's not like they haven't figured out we're, uh, sexually active."

"Yeah, but _thinking_ they know, and _knowing_ they know, are two different things," I pointed out as he opened the car door for me. He got in on his side, tossing my bag into the backseat.

He shrugged, backing out of the driveway and onto the street. "Either way, you're going to end up sneaking into my bed anyway, right?"

"Me?" I squeaked in surprise. "Why me? I don't sneak – I can't sneak. I suck at sneaking."

He laughed. "Yeah, okay. If they let you sleep in the music room, you sneak into my bed. It's not that far, and it's really comfortable. If they put you in the guest suite, then I'll sneak into yours."

I considered this, and thought it was fair. I realized we hadn't even considered that one of us wouldn't be sneaking into one or the other's bed. We stopped for a while at Alice's house to see her and Jazz, but didn't stay too long. I think they were just as anxious to be alone as we were – it appeared there would be a lot of sneaking around going on in many households tonight.

"Care to make a bet?" he asked as we went through the massive garage into his house through the back door.

"What kind of bet?" I asked suspiciously.

"Let's see…" he paused with his hand on the doorknob. "I bet they let you sleep in the pull-out bed in the music room."

"I bet they don't," I countered.

"If I win, and they do, then I get a free night." His eyes darkened as they searched mine.

"A free night of what?" I was starting to get a little frustrated with his ambiguous statements.

"A free night to do anything I want with you," he whispered, his voice dark and low, leaning in toward me.

I licked my lips and stared at his mouth. I think I shivered. "A – Ah – Ah…" I had to stop and clear my throat. I couldn't take my eyes from his full lips and white, gleaming teeth. "Anything?" I shifted, trying to ease the sudden ache low in my belly.

"Yeah." He brushed his nose along my ear, and a gasp escaped my lungs. I felt him smile into my hair.

"What—what do I get if I win?" I whispered, trying really hard not to sway toward him.

"Anything _you_ want." His voice was rough, husky, low.

I squeezed my eyes shut and fought the almost irresistible urge to knock him to the ground and have my way with him, right there in the garage.

"Okay," I squeaked.

He opened the door leading from the garage into the laundry room, and I risked a glance at his face. He was grinning at me. If I won, I wanted him to have a free night, too, and I think the smug bastard knew it.

"Hey Mom, hey Dad," he greeted his parents, who were sitting at the kitchen table, relaxing with what smelled like mugs of hot chocolate sitting in front of them. I glanced at the clock on the elaborate microwave, and realized it was later than I thought.

"Did you guys stop and see Jasper and Alice?" his mom asked.

"Yeah, for a bit." He slid the strap of my bag off of his shoulder and held it in front of him. "So." He kept his eyes studiously on his parents, trying to be casual. "Where should I put Bella's stuff?"

His mom ducked her head slightly, hiding a smile, before raising her eyes briefly to his dad. He settled back in the chair and stared at his son.

"I don't know," he finally said, and I could hear the amusement in his voice. "Where do you think she should sleep?"

Edward shifted, nervous or uncomfortable, I couldn't tell. "Well, I was thinking…" his voice trailed off, and I could hear his tone echoing the amusement in his dad's, "…maybe the sofa in my room?"

"You did, did you?" Carlisle pinned him with his cool blue stare before a grin broke out over his features. "That's a little presumptuous, don't you think?"

Triumph and disappointment warred through me – it looked like I was going to win the little bet we had made. The feelings only intensified when he continued, "Don't you think the bed in the music room would be a little more comfortable?"

A grin matching his father's broke out across his face, but he quickly tempered it. "Sounds good," he said casually, and turned to the hall.

"Edward?" His dad's voice halted us both, and Edward turned back to face him. "I do expect that you'll respect the rules of this household. That you're old enough to be trusted to do so?"

Edward stared at him for a second, and then nodded his head. He touched my arm as he moved past me and I followed.

We climbed the stairs, and he moved with confidence into his room, leaving the overhead lights off and instead going to his nightstands to turn on the small lamps. He then tossed my bag on the bed. I looked around the room, moving over to the opaque glass of the wide doors leading out onto the balcony. The pale reflection of my face stared back at me. I was suddenly shy and nervous, disbelieving that his parents were actually going to let me stay with him. I didn't fool myself that any of us really believed I'd be sleeping in the music room. I guess he won our bet…I gripped my elbows and hugged my arms around my chest, trying to contain the sharp thrill that shot through me at the thought of his reward for winning.

"C'mere," he said softly.

I turned my head, looking curiously over my shoulder to see him standing in the middle of the room, over by the sofa and chairs. The first flutter of awareness and excitement tickled low in my belly. "What about your parents?" I asked.

I thought I saw the corners of his mouth twitch, but his face was shadowed and obscured in the soft, dim light. "They won't be up until before they go to bed," he told me, his voice low and intimate. "We've got plenty of time. C'mere," he repeated.

I stood by the balcony door, considering. It was only for effect—we both knew I'd do it. I trusted him completely. I kept my eyes locked on his, and even from across the room I knew they were intense and sharp with desire. I could hear it in his voice. I slowly moved toward him, each step a taunt, a call, an answer. I stopped in front of him, tilting my head with a soft smile, and he broke.

His hands came up and gripped my shoulders, pulling me to him. He pressed his supple lips to mine, a soft, sweet caress that quickly grew rougher, more urgent. I brought my hands up to touch his face but his tightened on my upper arms, pulling me slightly away. I stared at him in surprise, and he kissed me one last time, stroking the hair back from my face. He looked down at me for many long seconds.

"Anything I want," he reminded me, but it sounded more like he was talking to himself. "If it's something you don't want, Bella, you just tell me, okay?"

"I want you, Edward," I said softly, and I meant it.

He lifted me, kissing me hard. I began to have an inkling of how much control he'd been exerting over himself. He spun me around, and the room whirled around me before I was once again staring at my image in the enormous panes of glass that lined the back of his room. He took a quick step forward, pressing his erection into the small of my back, his hands coming up to cup my breasts. I leaned my head back against his hard chest and moaned.

He stripped me, still facing away from him, and I watched in the reflection of the glass. A dreamy, warm haze was overtaking my senses. I shivered, both at the erotic sight in front of me and the feel of him exposing me. He ran his hands up and down my arms, and while it may have warmed me, it did nothing to stop the shivers. They intensified and he chuckled lowly.

"Jesus, Bella," he murmured, his fingertips trailing over my back. "Your skin…It's so beautiful."

"Edward," I whispered, trying to turn around, but his hands gripped my shoulders. He held me still, making sure I would be compliant.

"Shush," he warned, his voice rumbling in my ear, breath warm against the skin of my neck. "You promised, remember? Anything I want." He walked me forward, staying behind me, guiding me to the leather sofa. "Here," he murmured in a low, guttural voice. He put gentle pressure on the top of my shoulders so that I went slowly to my knees, and then pressed between my shoulder blades so that I lay face-down across the seat. "Here. God, I want you here."

I whimpered, falling forward, gripping the cushion on the sofa. I whimpered again when I heard him fumbling desperately with his own clothes, heard them dropping to the floor. I tried once again to turn my head toward him, but he tightened his fingers in my hair. I lowered my face so that I rested my cheek on the cool leather cushion. It warmed quickly with my body heat, and I felt it stick slightly to my skin. He knelt behind me, his hands running down my sides to caress my hips, the heat of his body covering me from shoulders to knees as he bent forward to brush my hair off of my neck and place a soft, sucking kiss there. He worked his thighs between mine, yanking my legs apart suddenly, stretching them wide to just the point of being uncomfortable. He stroked my buttocks and settled between them. I moaned at the feel of his erection pressing against the curve of my behind.

"Okay?" he whispered in my ear, leaning over me once again, covering me with his body as his fingers traced lower and fluttered between my legs.

"Uh-huh," I grunted, nodding my head as best I could. "Edward. Please…"

His long fingers dipped inside, swirling and curling before he pulled them out to my agonized groan. I pressed back against him, my hips twitching against his groin. He gasped, and I pushed back more insistently, only to feel him give me a sharp, reprimanding pinch on the curve of my butt. I jumped, and God help me, I moaned.

"No," he admonished in a low, rough tone of pure sex. "Be good, or don't you want this?" He rubbed the length of his rock hard penis between the cheeks of my ass, and I growled in want and frustration. _Damn him_.

I started to rise up to face him, but his large, hot palm pressed insistently into the center of my back, holding me to my position of half-laying on the seat cushion of the sofa. I was pulsing, trembling, and throbbing insistently between my legs. I squirmed, seeking to ease the needy ache, gripping the slick surface hard. My fingers were white against the black leather. I felt his hands once again between my legs as he trailed his fingers through the dampness at the juncture of my thighs, plucking gently at my flesh. I tried to bite the leather under my mouth to stifle my cry at the intense sensation, but could find no purchase.

"Jesus, Bella," he breathed, and I felt him pull away slightly. His large hands gripped my hipbones and he slammed into me.

I gave a muffled shriek and came hard, shaking and shattering and sobbing into the fragrant leather.

"Fuck," I heard him chanting when I could hear properly again. "Fuckfuckfuck."

He was pressed hard inside me, his chest plastered to my back, holding still and deep as he fought the onslaught of his own need. I could feel the fine trembling in his big body, his muscles rebelling against his formidable will. After a long moment he straightened and slid slowly out of me with a loud groan, only to thrust back in with a sharp hiss between his teeth. He pounded into me steadily from behind, and the depth and friction soon started my orgasmic rise once more. I grunted and moaned in time with his deep thrusts, and soon I was grabbing desperately at the fiery burn that was spreading deep in my belly.

"I'm going…to…come," I gasped. "Again…" I felt him grow impossibly bigger, thrust impossibly harder. He gripped my shoulders and leaned in, putting his weight into each lunge inside me.

It felt glorious. The feel of him stretching me, filling me, made me grin gleefully, despite the desperate coil of tension in my body.

"Yes!" I crowed triumphantly, tossing my head back, my hair swirling over my shoulders and around his hands. I arched my back and somehow he was even deeper. He gave a grunt of surprise and with one last powerful plunge he came with a cry of exultation, shivering and quaking, pressing his thighs into the back of mine. He arched his back as he clutched my waist, pushing deep inside, pulsing strongly.

I felt every one, counted through them, as I was sure he could feel the pulse and flutter of my own orgasm around him. He finally collapsed onto my back, sweat-slick and panting. We stayed like that, stuck to each other and trying to catch our breaths, for many long minutes. There was no way I could move. My entire body was limp with supreme satisfaction, lying prone across the sofa with my cheek stuck to the leather. He finally pulled out of me and slid to the side, collapsing on the floor with his back against the front of the sofa. I heard him stretch up to grab his discarded T-shirt that was flung over the arm before I felt him gently press the material between my legs. I let out an indecipherable noise as he wiped slowly, caressingly, back and forth, and then down the length of each thigh to my knees. He sat back to clean himself, tucking the condom I hadn't heard him open into the shirt before setting it aside. He reached over to wrap his arms around my waist, my face still pressed to the leather cushion, and pulled me into his lap. He put his chin on top of my head and cuddled close, stroking my hair.

"Okay, baby?" he asked softly, pressing his lips to the secret spot behind my ear.

"Better than," I replied, shifting to look into his face. My hands reached up to cup his flushed cheeks. I stared into his eyes for a few seconds before letting mine drift shut, and I touched my mouth to his. "I love you," I whispered to him, and he kissed me.

"I love you, too," he returned when he had finished, and I opened my eyes to see his were still shut, a soft, sweet smile on his face. "God. I've had such fantasies of you against my sofa like that."

"And how did it compare?" I asked, rubbing suggestively into his lap.

"Hmm," he exhaled thoughtfully. His eyes blinked open and the corner of his mouth curled. "I might have to try it a couple of more times, in a couple of more ways, just for comparison's sake."

I felt him twitch underneath me and I gaped at him. He blushed and shrugged. "Did I mention I've had fantasies for a really long time?" he laughed.

We eventually roused ourselves, throwing on some clothes, and he went into the music room to pull the roll-a-way bed out from its clever little niche in the wall. It already had sheets on it, and he pulled a pillow and some blankets out of the cupboard above the hideaway, tossing them on the bed. I made a half-hearted attempt to straighten them into some semblance of order, but he just jumped on top of the small twin sized bed, making it groan ominously, reaching out to grab me and pull me onto the mattress with him. We were giggling and wrestling, fighting for access to each other's ticklish spots, when there was a loud and deliberate throat-clearing from the doorway. I fell off the bed with a graceless thump and struggled to part my hair, still giggling, to see his dad smiling at us from the other end of the room.

"Okay, children," he teased. "Bedtime. And no monkey-business."

"Why do they call it monkey-business?" Edward asked with a grin, stretching out on the bed and propping his head up on one hand.

"I know you've seen the monkey exhibit at the zoo." Carlisle regarded his son with one eyebrow arched. I burst into surprised laughter, remembering the one time Renee had taken me to the zoo in Phoenix and tried to explain to my nine year old self that the monkeys were just "hugging."

"That's just wrong." Edward joined in with my laughter. "That's a mood killer if I ever heard one."

"As it was meant to be." Carlisle gave us each amused but pointed looks. "Good night, you two."

"Good night," I returned. "And thank you, Dr. Cullen, for everything. It was a great Christmas."

"You're welcome, Bella." He smiled and left the room. We both stayed in our positions until we heard his footsteps fading down the stairs.

"Time to get ready for bed," Edward proclaimed. He led me into the bathroom, letting go of my hand and continuing on into his bedroom. He retrieved my bag, coming back and setting it on the counter. I rummaged through it until I found my toothpaste, pulling out my pajamas in the process. We brushed our teeth companionably, side by side, giving each other foamy grins in the large mirror over the sink. After rinsing, I picked up the thin camisole and cotton shorts I usually wore to bed, glancing around nervously.

"What?" Edward asked, noticing my uncertainty.

"Um." I held up my handful of clothes. "I need to change?"

"Why?" he whispered softly, his voice deepening as he moved to me and put his arms around my waist.

"Um," I repeated. His warmth, smell, and familiar feel made my brain fuzzy. "Because we're supposed to be respecting the rules of the house?"

He laughed, the warm rumbles tickling my ear. "I think we already violated that one by screwing each other's brains out on my sofa."

I shivered in delighted remembrance. "Besides," he continued in a low, soft voice that spelled trouble for me, "what could be more respectful than giving you the most intense orgasm of your life? Dad'd be proud."

I didn't know whether to laugh or fall to my knees and beg him to take me that way again. I opted for wiggling out of his arms, and turned to face him with a stern look. "I need to change and get in my own little bed in the music room. What if one of them comes back up to check on us during the night?"

"They won't," he assured me. "They won't!" he repeated at my dubious look. "I was right before, wasn't I? Trust me."

"Then why did we even bother to get the bed out in the first place?" I asked.

"Just in case." He winked at me. "I cover all my bases, baby."

I still had my doubts, and they must have shown on my face. With an exasperated and over-dramatic sigh, he grabbed my nightclothes out of my hand and tossed them carelessly behind him. My surprised and outraged "Hey!" turned into a grunt as he bent down and hefted me over his shoulder.

"What the…Edward!"

"Shush," he told me, slapping my butt as he marched across the room to toss me on his bed. "You're sleeping here, with me, and that's that."

"Oh, really?" My tone lost some of its effectiveness due to my being out of breath from his shoulder in my gut.

"Yeah. Really." He pulled the shirt off over his head, and his hands went down to the buttons on his jeans. I scooted back onto the pillows, propping them up so that I had a good view.

"Well," I said slowly, my eyes glued to where his hard, flat, lightly furred belly was slowly being exposed. "If you insist."

* * *

**Now what would cause Bella think this?**

**Thank God for horny Emmett. I think I loved him.**


	22. Chapter 22: Clutch and Grab

**Stephenie Meyer's characters. My version of them.**

**Big love to betas Sarahsumbrella and silentnc - thank you!**

**So, there are more of you asking for more hockey than those asking for lemons. Can I just tell you I love you guys? Seriously. Don't worry, there will be more of both. Let me get them to CA and back, and then things start to get kind of interesting...**

**Thanks to everyone for being so supportive and reading!**

* * *

**CHAPTER 22: Slow Whistle**

The next few days of Winter Break passed fairly quickly, which was surprising considering how excited I was to go to California with the Cullens. I'd been to both Los Angeles and San Diego before with my mom – Phoenix wasn't that far of a drive, and she'd taken me to the beaches when I was younger – but this was so different. Emmett and Rosalie left Forks a couple of days after Christmas as he needed to be back for practice and prepare with his coaches and teammates. The game was scheduled for New Year's Day, so Edward and I, along with his mom and dad, left on December 30. We would be spending New Year's Eve together in Pasadena.

The Cullens picked me up in Carlisle's Mercedes, and Edward came to the door to help me with my rather large bag. I'd had a weak moment of holiday cheer and let Alice help me pack. Charlie wandered out as Carlisle opened the trunk and Edward hefted it into the car.

"Have fun, Bells," he said, giving me a kiss on top of my head. "Be good." He turned to smile at Esme, who was sitting in the car but had rolled down her window. "Thank you. Hope she's not too much trouble."

"Dad," I groaned, getting into the backseat of the luxurious car. "Good-bye, already."

"'Bye," he grinned, waving as we pulled away. Great, now he thinks he's a regular comedian.

We got to the airport, and Carlisle dropped us off to check our bags at the curbside check-in before going to park the car. I was surprised to see Edward had brought one of his guitars with him. I raised a brow questioningly at him when he picked the case up to carry it inside with us.

"There's a great little bar near where we're staying," he explained. "Emmett knows the owners. They're actually USC fans. They have an open mic night that I'd like to play at if we can swing it."

Edward playing his guitar at an open mic night. Yeah. I could get into that. "When?" I asked eagerly.

He laughed and bumped my shoulder with his arm. "I don't know exactly. We'll check with Emmett when we get there."

"Are they staying at the hotel with us?" I asked curiously. I knew he and Rosalie had an apartment in San Diego, but that was a couple of hours away from where the game was being played.

"Well, Emmett will be staying with the team, but we're in the same hotel. I'm pretty sure Rose will be staying with us – at least officially." He shook his head as he helped his mom with her carry-on, slinging it over his shoulder while he gripped the guitar case. "I'm not sure about the sleeping arrangements," he added, leering at me comically.

"Bella, Rose, and I will be in one room, you and your dad in another," his mom informed us dryly, and I knew I was blushing.

The flight was uneventful. I read a book while Edward zoned out with his iPod. LAX was bright and busy, but we found baggage claim and got our luggage with no problems. Edward called Rosalie, who was picking us up, and we made our way curbside to load our bags into her BMW. It was a tight fit. Edward, Esme, and I sat in the backseat with his guitar case and a couple of other small bags on our laps that wouldn't fit into the trunk. Rosalie drove us to the very elegant hotel in Pasadena, and Dr. Cullen registered for two rooms as all of the suites were taken by the football team.

We left the luggage for the bell boy, and trudged up to the floor where our rooms were located. We all paused awkwardly in the hall while Dr. Cullen juggled the key cards. Rose snorted.

"Oh, come on," she said, catching one as it dropped from his hands. "I'll keep my eye on the kids. Bella and I will share a bed, and Edward can have the other. There's no need for you two not to be in the same room," she told his parents.

Esme frowned at us, while Dr. Cullen looked bemused. Rosalie rolled her eyes, and slid the key through the mechanism on one of the doors. "It'll be fine," she assured them, and pushed me into the room. Edward followed, trying to hide a grin, and I didn't hear any arguing in the hall. Rose came in and shut the door behind her a few seconds later.

"Thanks, Rose," Edward told her, throwing himself on one of the two beds. "We owe you one big time."

"You don't tell, and neither will I," she said, arching a brow at him. He rolled onto his stomach to regard her quizzically, and she just grinned. "Emmett got us our own room so we can spend some time together when he can sneak away from the coaches," she explained. "You know how he is."

I turned and looked out the window, trying to hide a smile. Thank God for horny Emmett. I think I loved him.

"So," Edward said slowly, his bright green eyes sliding to me. "What you're saying is we'll have this room all to ourselves at night?"

"Not all of them," she corrected. "But most of them. Use it wisely."

"Rosalie," he said, getting up and going over to her. "You are absolutely my most favorite sister. I love you – sincerely." He caught her up in a crushing hug, and she laughed.

Emmett showed up a few hours later, after team practice, looking freshly showered but tired. We went with his parents to dinner at a local restaurant just down the block from the hotel. It was casual but fancy in that California way and the food was excellent. Afterward we all headed back to the hotel, but Edward, Emmett, Rose, and I were going to the pub that Emmett's friend owned, the one that had the open mic nights. I was a little tired from all of my unaccustomed traveling, but there was no way in hell I was going to miss Edward up on a stage. Singing. Playing his guitar. Sweating. He went up to our room to retrieve his guitar while we waited for him in the lobby. He returned in a matter of minutes, and we walked out of the hotel to hail a cab.

"How are we going to get in the bar?" I asked as the taxi dropped us off in front of a somewhat seedy entrance. Both Edward and I were underage, and while he could probably pass as older, there was no way I looked anywhere near twenty-one.

"Back entrance," Emmett said, and we followed him around the corner. "Plus, I know the owner. As long as you guys aren't obvious about it, it won't be a problem. Edward always plays here when we make it to LA."

There were a few unremarkable doors lining the back of the building. Emmett went directly to one, pulling it open and stepping inside. Rosalie followed, and Edward motioned for me to precede him through the opening. The door opened into a dark, narrow hall, and we followed Emmett's hulking form through the kitchen and another door that opened behind the bar.

"Emmett!" a very large man boomed, wiping his hands off on a towel and moving swiftly toward us with a grin. "How are you, man? And Rose, beautiful as always." He shook Emmett's hand and placed a quick kiss to Rosalie's smooth cheek. "Edward." He acknowledged him with another firm handshake, and turned to me with a quizzical but friendly smile.

"This is my girlfriend, Bella," Edward introduced me, and I received my own handshake. "Bella, this is Mick."

The man arched a brow at Emmett. "Just keep her in the back, okay?"

"I'm sorry," I stuttered, embarrassed, not wanting to cause any trouble. "I don't have to -"

"It's okay, really," Mick assured me. "Emmett's boys and Edward's guitar are good for business."

I smiled, glancing up at Edward, and Emmett rubbed his hands together. "Are the guys here?"

"Some of them," Mick said, nodding his head toward a number of tables pulled together in the back of the room. There were a bunch of men almost as big as Emmett gathered around, along with a few girls. I glanced toward the other end of the room and saw a small stage.

Emmett and Rose moved toward the group while Edward pulled me toward the stage. I sat on the edge, watching curiously as he set his guitar case on the floor and carefully removed the instrument. He plugged a cord into it, settling it on his lap, and plugged in his tuner. He strummed a few chords, watching the lights dance across the box, and then lifted his head to grin at me.

"Any requests?" he asked, and I opened my mouth, only to be interrupted by a shout from the group at the back of the room.

"Edward! Man, come say hi!"

Edward set the guitar down on top of a stool next to the microphone, taking my hand and walking back toward the group. "Emmett's teammates," he explained unnecessarily.

I was a little nervous. There were a lot of very large men in a small space, and they were so…boisterous and outgoing. They were glad to see Edward and obviously knew him well, so I liked them for that fact alone. The girls that were with them, on the other hand…I found myself on the receiving end of a few speculative glances and somewhat hostile glares.

"Hey, guys." Edward shook and slapped hands with a grin. "This is my girlfriend, Bella. She's here to see if you pussies can kick some ass on the field."

I blushed furiously as they all whooped and catcalled. Chairs were pulled out for us, and Edward tugged my hand until I sat next to him. One of the girls plopped herself down next to me, waiting until Edward was occupied talking to one of the other guys before addressing me.

"Girlfriend, huh?" she asked, giving me the once over. She was so obvious, trying to make me feel lacking. She didn't realize that was going to be hard to do, what with Edward's pinky slowly, purposefully stroking my palm under the table, causing warm shivers to ripple through me.

"Yeah, and here we were thinking he was gay," one of the other guys chortled with a wink.

"I could have told you he wasn't, if you had asked me," the brunette on my left said, giving me a knowing, sidelong smirk, and wiping the corner of her mouth suggestively. Edward's fingers stilled on my skin – he'd obviously heard her.

Oh no – I may be a little shy and quiet, but my temper boiled when someone messed with my boy. I grabbed his bicep, turning slightly toward him and pressing my breast firmly against his arm. "Oh, so you're the reason he was so scared of teeth." I turned my head to gaze up at him adoringly. "We've had to have a _lot_ of repetition, but I think we finally got you over it, didn't we? Now you don't mind at all." I fluttered my lashes up into his stunned, open-mouthed face.

There was dead silence at the table, and then everyone burst out into raucous laughter. Edward's face was bright red as he hugged me, but not as red as the dumb bimbo sitting next to me. She got up with a huff and disappeared in the direction of the restrooms.

"See, I told you she was awesome!" Emmett chortled, leaning over the table to give the top of my head a painful rub. "Go, Bella!"

"Where the hell did that come from?" Edward asked, grinning sheepishly down at me.

"Sorry," I said unapologetically, shrugging, but secretly delighted. "But I can't let that shit slide."

"Remind me not to piss you off," he said, shaking his head in amusement.

A smile lingered on my lips as I studied him curiously. "So…did you?"

"Did I what?"

"You know…" I let my voice trail off suggestively, gesturing to where the girl had disappeared. "Did you have a thing with her?"

"Oh! Ah…well…" He turned red, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck and not meeting my eyes.

"Don't blame him," came a cheerful voice as a large male body suddenly occupied the girl's seat. "Everyone's had a 'thing' with Carole." It was the guy who had made the teasing remark about Edward earlier.

I started to ask what the hell that meant, but Edward leaned forward. "Andy, I don't think you're helping," he said with a scowl and a possessive squeeze of my shoulders.

I narrowed my eyes at him. I didn't want him to think he was going to get away with blowing that subject off again. Was Carole the reason he…_knew_ the things he did? How he came to have even some of those interesting things in his bedside drawer? He'd told me he hadn't dated many girls…in…high school…Wait a minute. I thought he'd meant he hadn't dated many girls since he'd been in high school, but what if he meant he hadn't dated many high school aged girls? Carole definitely wasn't high school age. Oh, the semantics….I narrowed my eyes on him further, and he fidgeted under my stare.

"Oh, go on and sing, pretty boy." Andy saved his ass, giving him an out and scooting his chair closer to me with a grin. "Don't worry about your girl. We'll watch over her. Not that she needs it," he added with an admiring look in my direction.

"Sing, sing!" the table chanted, and Edward rose slowly, shaking his head but grinning widely.

"Remind me again why I thought this would be a good idea?" he asked no one in particular, dodging friendly blows as he made his way to the stage.

"Beer?" Andy asked, slamming a full bottle down in front of me.

"Oh, I, uh…No. Thank you." I stuttered, surprised.

He just shrugged, grabbing the bottle and taking a swig. "Your boy's pretty fucking awesome," he said conversationally as Edward strummed his guitar, making some last minute tuning adjustments.

"He is, isn't he?" I murmured, looking at his gleaming bronze hair and carved features highlighted by the overhead stage lights. "And not a half-bad musician, either."

Andy threw his head back and laughed, and after a curious glance at us, everyone at the table turned their attention back to Edward. He adjusted the mic, squinting good-naturedly in our direction. "So, yeah. I'm going to sing a couple of songs." He cleared his throat self-consciously and launched into a beautiful acoustic version of a popular song. The bar went silent.

I shut my eyes briefly, letting the notes and his deep, rough, velvet smooth voice wash over me. I couldn't keep my eyes off him for long, though, and felt the familiar burn of lust and desire at the sight of him up on stage, putting his heart into his music. It never failed to move me. He sat perched on the tall stool, swaying slightly, his guitar balanced on his leg as he played. I bit my lip and clenched my thighs. God, he was beautiful – talented, beautiful, and mine.

The next song he sang was _Little Willy_, the one that had been playing on his iPod the night we first said "I love you" to each other. I gasped and covered my mouth as I recognized the opening chords, slower and uncomplicated on his acoustic guitar, but unmistakable all the same. He raised his eyes to the back of the room and smirked, even though I knew there was no way he could see me with the lights focused on the stage. His last song was one I recognized as his original composition. He ducked his head at the enthusiastic applause and whistles when he finished. His performance and the response from the crowd brought a sting of moisture to my eyes as I bounced in my seat and clapped wildly. The stage lights dimmed as he bent to put his guitar back in its case, and he made his way through the now boisterous crowd, nodding, smiling, and accepting thanks and congratulations.

He blew out a relieved breath when he sat next to me, setting his guitar against the wall. He accepted a cold beer bottle with a nod of appreciation, tilting it back and draining it. He let out another gasp, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and turned to me with a smile.

"So, did it sound okay?"

I just stared at him. He was glistening in the dim light, his shirt dark in spots with sweat. He ran his hand through his hair, leaving it in wild disarray, his eyes bright and deep green with satisfaction.

"You were amazing," I whispered, lust for him consuming me. We hadn't had any alone time since Christmas night, and that needed to be remedied immediately. His eyes sharpened on my face. "I love hearing you sing. I love watching you play."

"Jesus, Bella." He knew. He knew me so well, my reactions, the signs I was throwing.

I slowly reached out with one finger and ran it down his sweat-slick, muscular forearm. He quivered, and I echoed the involuntary response.

"What time is it?" he murmured intensely. "What time is it, Emmett?' he asked, louder.

"Just now eleven." Emmett's knowing eyes roved over us.

Edward took my hand and stood, leaning over to grab his guitar case. "That late?" he made a show of frowning and looking at me. "It's been a busy day. I'd better get Bella back to the hotel, you know?"

"You tired, Bella?" Emmett asked slyly. I nodded vigorously, and he laughed. "You two can get back to the hotel by yourselves? Yeah? All right, see you tomorrow, then."

Rose raised a knowing brow as she met my gaze. I blushed, but smiled and mouthed a heartfelt "thank you" to her. I followed behind Edward as he made his way out of the bar. He thanked Mick as we passed, going out through the back, the way we had come into the bar. Edward didn't say anything as we went around the building to the main street, walking down the sidewalk until he spotted an on-duty taxi. He waved it down, opening the door and making sure I got in safely before sliding in beside me. He gave the driver the name of our hotel, setting the guitar on the floor at our feet, and turned my face to his.

He kissed me gently, soft, small, brief presses and a quick swipe of tongue across my lower lip. I sighed. He smelled of good, clean sweat, and Edward. He sat back and held my hand until we arrived at the hotel, paying the driver and courteously helping me out of the vehicle. We walked swiftly through the lobby, both of us unusually silent as we got into the elevator, just watching each other as it rose steadily and stopped with chime on our floor. He opened the door to our room, turning to lock it behind us and taking his phone out of his pocket. He put his guitar aside as he held the cell phone to his ear.

"Hi, Mom. I'm just letting you know we're back and in the room. Yeah, Rose's saying good-night to Emmett." He grinned wickedly at me. "Okay, see you tomorrow. Good night." He pressed the off button and threw the phone on the nightstand.

"So." He hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans and smirked at me. I was fascinated with how the position tugged the material down further on his hips. "Uh, Bella?"

My eyes shot back up to his. "Huh?"

His smirked deepened, the jerk. "Whatcha looking at?"

Smug bastard. I took a deliberate step toward him, and then another. His eyes turned speculative as I reached for him, gripping the waistband of his jeans. My fingers dipped down, flicking the elastic band of his boxer briefs, tracing the warm, smooth skin over his hip bone. His breath caught as I moved my hand to cup him through his jeans. I licked my lips and glanced up at him through my lashes, bending to lower myself to my knees.

He caught my elbows, stilling the motion. I stared at him in surprise, and he gave me a lopsided smile, color touching his cheeks. "I, uh, I need to shower."

"Oh." I couldn't help a regretful look at his obvious erection, eye level with me as I sat up on the edge of the bed. "Okay."

"I'll be right back." He bent and pressed a swift kiss to my mouth, turning quickly for the bathroom and stripping as he went. I couldn't help but laugh as he tripped and stumbled in his haste.

I sat on the bed, listening intently as I heard the water in the tub turn on, and then the shower. I heard the curtain being pulled back and then closed again, the metal rings chiming faintly. I grinned to myself, jumping up and darting to my suitcase, rummaging swiftly through my clothes. I knew exactly what I was looking for. I pulled it out in triumph, stripping myself and replacing what I had on with the wicked underwear set. It was white lace – pure and virginal – and crotchless. I giggled in nervous delight, smoothing the delicate material over my hips and tugging on the matching bra. A curlicue of lace circled each nipple, leaving them pretty much exposed through a narrow loop of sheer mesh. I went to the full length mirror on the wall, turning and preening a little. Damn, it was hot. I couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he saw this pretty white lace, and when he realized there was a convenient lack of material in a very strategic location.

I hurriedly pulled on a T-shirt and pair of cotton shorts as I heard the water turn off in the shower. I waited a few long seconds before going to the bathroom door, pushing it open slowly when I noticed it wasn't completely shut, allowing tendrils of steam to escape. I stuck my head through, spotting him standing at the sink, a towel slung around his hips. He was rubbing his hair dry with another smaller towel, and he turned to me with a lopsided grin as he saw my reflection. I couldn't help but return the smile as dark, rusty tendrils stuck out all over his head, appearing almost brown from being wet. The light over the sink caught at the reds and golds, though, and I paused a moment to admire the display. His green eyes gleamed at me.

"God, you're pretty," I sighed, taking the towel from his hands and running it over his head, trying to push the stands into some semblance of order. I was secretly pleased when they refused. His hair was such a delightful mess.

He scowled at my comment. "You're the one that's pretty, even in this ratty old thing." He tugged at the frayed collar of my old sleep T-shirt.

I grinned, knowing what it covered. I tossed the small hand towel on the counter and skimmed my fingers along the edge of the much larger one he wore around his waist. He raised a brow and stepped closer to me, gripping my waist.

"Ah-ah," I teased, taking a small step back, noticing the towel twitching below his navel. "Well, hello, what's this?"

I dropped to my knees on the bathroom floor, tugging at the corner of the towel that was tucked in at his hip, pulling it loose and him towards me in one motion. His half-erection was eye level, and I wasted no time in taking it in my mouth. He gasped, his hand shooting out to steady himself on the counter beside him. He tasted of warm skin and Edward, his wet, slightly soapy, slightly musky scent filling my head. I took him all the way in, as far as I could, brushing my nose against his lower belly as he hit the back of my throat.

"Oh, _God_!" he exclaimed, arching and pushing his pelvis at me, rolling his head back. "That feels…so good."

I sucked on him for many long minutes, loving the sounds he made, the words that were forced from him, the feel of his fingers weaving through my hair and cupping the back of my head. I scraped my teeth along his length with one last drag before I braced myself against his hips and rose to my feet. His eyes blinked open as I pressed a soft kiss to his bottom lip, taking his hand to lead him out of the bathroom and push him down on the bed. He sat on the sheets, watching me with a sort of dazed curiosity as I took a couple of deliberate steps away and reached for the hem of my T-shirt. I crossed my arms and pulled it up slowly, teasingly over my head, tossing it on top of my suitcase.

"Wow," he breathed, drawing the word out as his eyes devoured the white lace bra that both hid and exposed my flesh. His cock jerked in his lap, and his hand twitched involuntarily toward it. A powerful feeling of triumph and relief coursed through me. I was beyond thrilled that everything was going according to my hopes and plans. He wanted me – bad. "Bella…"

I hooked my thumbs in the elastic waist of my shorts, tugging them down one side and then the other, swaying and twisting my hips before I dropped them to the floor and stepped away, leaving them where they lay. He made a strangled sound in his throat, his hands gripping the sheets before he jumped to his feet, coming quickly and unerringly to me. His warm hands cupped my breasts, his thumbs tracing over the swirls of lace before flicking and pressing against my nipples. It was my turn to moan and roll my head back as I pressed my barely clad crotch to his straining erection.

"Fuck," he breathed, bending his head to kiss me.

"Yes, please," I murmured primly, and he paused, his mouth hovering over mine for the barest instant.

"Fuck!" he repeated more forcefully, and his tongue plunged behind my unresisting lips.

His fingers plucked and pulled at my nipples, and I made incoherent sounds of pleasure into his mouth. He finally broke contact, running his tongue down my neck. His hands cupped my breasts, pressing them together and forcing me to my tiptoes, the calluses on his fingers catching briefly on the delicate material of mesh and lace. I arched back as far as I could without losing my balance as his wet, scorching mouth took one breast, sucking it in as far as he could manage before repeating the action on the other aching peak.

I was dimly aware of his hand releasing the breast he wasn't attached to and sliding down my stomach. I tried to split my awareness between what he was doing to my nipple and where his other hand was heading, in an agony of suspense and excitement for him to find my little surprise. His teeth nipped and bit at my breast as his fingers traced the top edge of the panties. I pushed my hips against them, encouraging him. He slid the flat of his palm against my mound, the tips of his fingers seeking and pressing between my legs.

I felt him jerk in shock as he felt the opening in the lace where there shouldn't be an opening. One long finger searched and circled as his head lifted to stare down into my face with surprise. His mouth worked as the finger slipped inside of me, and it fell open as he looked down our bodies to where his hand was pressed. His eyes shot to mine as full realization hit him.

"Holy. Fucking. Hell." His gaze never left mine as his fingers continued working, probing. "Are you…are they…?"

I moaned as he found a sensitive spot, and he gulped. My moan turned into a gasp as he turned us both swiftly, and I felt myself falling onto the bed. He lifted me, positioning me further up on the sheets, grabbing my knees and spreading them as he knelt between them. His eyes were glued to my exposed sex. He started to reach for me again, but paused, his hand hanging in the air between us as he just stared. After a long moment I squirmed, and his gaze met mine.

"Do _not_ move." His finger pointed at me, and his face was harsh as he rose.

I froze, watching as he scrambled off of the bed, almost running into the bathroom. He came back out immediately, holding a plastic square in his hand. He tore the packet open with his teeth, tossed the plastic over his shoulder and rolled the condom over his thick, heavy erection. He knelt between my legs again, coming down on one arm, his hand next to my head. With his other he traced the opening in the lace, stroked along my bare flesh, and guided himself into me. We both struggled for breath as he thrust hard, his eyes going to my breasts, still covered in the white lace. He shut his eyes and then opened them quickly, staring down at me. I stretched underneath him, undulating with a wide grin. This was even better than I had planned.

He met my eyes for a brief second, and then rose up on his strong arms until the only place we were touching was where he entered me, over and over. He bent his head and I followed his gaze to see the incredibly erotic sight of his glistening shaft thrusting in and back out of my white lace panty-covered sex. He made a sound I had never heard from him before, a kind of guttural shout, and his entire body wrenched and convulsed over me. I felt the pulses of his sudden and startling orgasm inside me, his cock tensing and releasing with amazingly strong jolts as his arms trembled and his entire body tightened in one long, shuddering ripple. It was many long seconds before he finally collapsed on top of me.

I lay underneath him in smug satisfaction, wildly pleased my surprise had made him lose control like that. I softly stroked his back and shoulders, keeping my ankles hooked over the back of his calves, placing gentle kisses to his neck and cheek. After a while he stirred, managing to lift his head slightly to look at me and place a sweet kiss to my mouth.

"Jesus, I'm sorry," he murmured.

"So, you liked it, then?" I asked.

A weak laugh shuddered through him and he rolled off me, rubbing his hands over his face. "Yeah," he breathed, turning his head and arching a brow as he smiled at me. "I think you could say that."

"Good." I rolled against him, bringing my knee up over his hip where it nudged his softening erection. He hugged me to his warm, wide chest before getting up to go to the bathroom to get rid of the condom.

I straightened the sheets and bedspread, and he slipped underneath them, gathering me close against him when he returned.

"Do you mind leaving them on for a little bit?" he asked almost sheepishly, running his fingers along the strap of the bra.

"No," I said with a soft chuckle, snuggling against him. "Like it that much, do you?"

"You have no idea," he murmured, his fingers trailing down my back and over the curve of my ass, helplessly seeking the opening in the panties once again. I started involuntarily at the strength of the sensation against my aroused and sensitive flesh, and he kissed my forehead, soothing me as he stroked languidly.

"Don't worry," he crooned. "I'll take care of you."

He eventually did strip me of the bra, and even the panties, wriggling down under the covers to pull them off of my legs. He pressed soft kisses between my thighs, brushing my clit with the tip of his tongue, over and over, until I was a writhing, moaning mess. He reached for the nightstand, and I heard the unmistakable sound of plastic tearing before he placed the condom in my hand. I reached down and stroked it over him, amazed at how he could be ready so soon after coming so hard. He rolled over me, spreading my legs with his knees and rubbing the head of his cock against me, lubricating us both before he entered me with a slow, steady push. One of the benefits of him having come so recently is that he lasted even longer, sliding smoothly in and out, sometimes hard, sometimes deep, sometimes shallow, sometimes just resting, hard and full inside me. I reveled in the width of his shoulders above me in the dark, his soft words and searching kisses, his stoking fingers. When I came it was slow, rolling, and intense, shaking me to my foundation and binding me to him more thoroughly than ever.

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**Edward on ice next chapter!**

**He raced forward, juggling the puck around the blade of his stick before taking a short but powerful swing, sending the puck zinging toward the goal.**


	23. Chapter 23: Dump and Chase

**Stephenie Meyer owns everything related to Twilight. The rest of this story is mine.**

**Thank you Sarasumbrella and silentnc for beta-ing this. Sarah put up with a lot of my neurotic bullshit on this one, so Sleepyward snuggles for you, bb - thanks!**

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**CHAPTER 23: Dump And Chase**

The next morning I woke to the unfamiliar scent of starchy sheets and the familiar smell of Edward. I wiggled closer to him, burying my nose in the smattering of hair on his chest, inhaling and pressing my mouth to his sternum. He gave a sleepy but pleased mumble, his hands coming up to rub my arms. I placed another kiss to his warm, sleep-scented flesh, and he rolled over onto his back, pulling me with him so that I lay with my head on his chest. Our legs were tangled together, his arms around me, and I stroked my fingers over the hard curve of his shoulder. I was in bed with Edward.

"Like waking up with you," he murmured, eyes still closed. "This is awesome."

I smiled, and couldn't resist giving another kiss to the firm, tempting curve of pectoral muscle under my cheek. We lay together like that for a long time, the steady rise and fall of his chest lulling me back into sleepy somnolence. My mind couldn't help going back over the events of the night, though, and I gave a small shiver of delight when I thought of how much pleasure he had given me before we finally fell asleep. He felt it and made an unintelligible but inquiring noise as he pulled the blanket up around my shoulders. I snuggled closer, trying to recapture my dozing, happy cocoon, but another memory had popped into my head, and it just wouldn't go away. I worried about it for a while, tossing it around in my mind, and I knew I had to talk to him.

He must have felt my tension. He gave another sleepy groan and rubbed a hand over his face. The other was still around my shoulders. He blinked up at the ceiling a couple of times before lowering his head to smile at me. "Good morning. I think you wiped me out last night."

I managed to return the smile, but he could tell something was bothering me. "Bella? You okay?" He brought both hands to my shoulder and lifted me away slightly, frowning now, so he could examine my body. "I didn't hurt you last night, did I?"

"No, no," I assured him, leaning up to give him a quick kiss. I tried to loosen his hold so I could resume my position in his arms. "I'm fine." His concerned eyes still roved the parts of me he could see, searching for damage of some sort. I reached up to smooth the wrinkle of skin between his brows as he continued to scowl. "Really, Edward, I'm fine."

His green eyes met mine. "What's the matter, then?"

I let out a breath, my pulse fluttering and nervous tension filling me. I placed my chin on his chest and didn't break eye contact as I asked, "Will you tell me about Carole?"

He started; I could feel his body jerk slightly under mine. He looked away briefly, running his hand through his hair. When he met my gaze again, his frown had deepened and wariness entered his eyes. "Why?"

I looked down where my finger was nervously tracing a circle on his bare skin. "Because." My voice was low and hesitant. "I just…I just want to know." I glanced up at him, and then quickly went back to staring at my finger. "You told me who you didn't sleep with – Tanya, Bree – but you never told me who you did sleep with. I know you said you'd had sex before. Was it…was it with Carole?" Was she the one who taught him his way around the female body? Was she the one…? I gritted my teeth, fighting back a sudden wave of jealousy and the desire to go find her and rip the hair out of her head. And then maybe...thank her? Gah, my emotions were all over the place.

He sat up, easing me away slightly, and scrubbed both hands through his hair. I leaned over and grabbed my T-shirt from where it was lying on the floor, pulling it over my head. I wasn't ready to have this conversation without some shields in place. He had turned slightly to watch what I was doing with a faintly sad and regretful expression. Pulling the sheet up to cover his naked lap, he turned to face me, taking my hands in his and staring down at them.

"Are you sure you want to know?" he asked softly. "Are you sure you want to talk about this?"

"Y-Yes." I tried to say it firmly, bravely, but my voice shook with trepidation. I both did and didn't want to hear about his past sexual encounter. Or encounters. My stomach rolled.

His eyes shot to mine at the break in my tone, and he squeezed my hands. "Bella, I love you. I've never felt this way about anyone, ever, and that's the truth. I've never wanted to do...I've never wanted anyone like I want you. I'll tell you about Carole, if that's what you want, but I don't want to upset you. I don't want it to hurt you. It's something that happened before we met, and I don't want…" He paused, taking another deep breath. "It just feels really weird talking about it with you. I don't want this to change anything between us."

I turned his words over in my head. I considered how much hearing about him having sex with another girl would hurt me, versus the terrible uncertainty of not knowing, of letting my active and fertile imagination worry the subject until it was a much bigger deal than it probably really was. At least, a bigger deal than I hoped it was. I looked up at his handsome face and saw that he looked positively sick. I managed what I hoped was a reassuring smile and placed my hand on his cheek.

"I love you, too, Edward. So much. But I'd like you to tell me, so I know. Otherwise it'll just bug me, and I'll keep worrying about it. I don't have anything to worry about, do I?" The thought had suddenly occurred to me, and I had to ask.

"What? No. No!" He leaned toward me and gave me a firm, thorough kiss. "I haven't been with – haven't seen Carole in a long time."

"So you did sleep with her." I couldn't meet his eyes.

"Yeah," he admitted softly, running his hand up and down my arm. "I did." He gestured to the headboard as he leaned slowly against it. "Will you let me hold you while I tell you? Please?"

I moved swiftly into his arms, once again laying my head on his chest, needing the reassurance of his embrace as much as he needed mine.

"I met Carole when I was visiting Emmett and Rose. She's been friends with them since they were all freshmen. She was pretty and fun. She knew I was Emmett's younger brother, but she had no idea how much younger." He settled more comfortably in the bed. "She, ah…she liked sex. And she liked me." I tilted my head to see the mocking half-smile curving his mouth as he glanced down at me, stroking my hair. I lay my head back against him. The tension started to leave my body as I listened to him.

"It was before school started, and I was there for a couple of weeks, while Mom and Dad went on vacation. I, uh, spent a lot of time with her. She was really nice and a lot of fun, and…well." He gave me a little squeeze. "We'd see each other when I'd go to visit Em and Rose. I went a few of times that fall and winter."

I snorted in amusement, and he gave me another little squeeze. "My visits kind of tapered off after the first of the year, and she met someone else – someone there in San Diego." He paused. "We both kind of moved on, you know? I liked her, I really did, but…I didn't love her, and she didn't love me or anything. It was just… It was fun for both of us, and I learned a lot." he glanced down at me again with humor glinting in his eyes, and I was glad we could be a little light-hearted about the subject. "I liked her, don't get me wrong, and she felt the same, but…She was very kind to a kid who had never had sex before, but really, really wanted to. She was willing to teach me, and it was definitely something I wanted to learn."

I smiled at this – my little overachiever. It was so Edward. He hated doing anything if he couldn't do it well. If he felt he didn't know enough about a subject, he did his level best to learn as much as he could.

"So…" he exhaled loudly. "That's Carole."

"Hmm." I sat up, my arms still around his waist, and gave him a quick, soft kiss. "So Carole is the only other person you've slept with?"

He looked uncomfortable, and I arched a brow at him in surprise. "Well, um…no. There was this other girl, she went to USC, too. I only slept with her once, though," he added quickly, defensively, when I just sat there. "I uh, I want to see if, you know, I got the same...results?...as I did with Carole."

I just stared at him, and he began to get nervous. "That's it, though, I swear, until you. And I never wanted anything, any_one_, as much as I wanted you. You have no idea, Bella…"

I collapsed on the bed, giggling. It was his turn to stare at me. Only my boyfriend, with his obsessive-compulsive and control freak tendencies, would think it was a good idea to sleep with someone just to be sure he could duplicate his sexual results. _Only Edward_…I laughed harder. God, I loved him.

"While I'm glad you're amused," he began, eyeing me and coming to his knees to crawl over my body lying prone on the bed, "I don't think you should be laughing when I'm telling you about my sexual history." He lowered himself on top of me, covering me from head to foot. He took my hands in his and pressed them to the mattress on either side of my head. I stopped laughing. He was still naked.

"So Carole… So Carole…" He was running his lower lip along my collar bone, and it was pretty distracting. I tried again. "So Carole is who you learned all that stuff from – ummm…The sofa thing?" There was a sudden, sharp throb between my legs at the memory of that night. "The stuff in your drawer?"

"Hm, maybe some of it," he breathed against my skin. "But the sofa thing – that's just something I've always wanted to do with you."

"Really?' I tipped my head back as he placed a soft, sucking kiss under my jaw. I was glad – so very glad – that it was just ours and no one else's. Carole may have taught him a lot of things, and that made me both happy and sad, but I was determined there would be many of experiences we would discover together. Just the two of us.

"Really." He made his way up to my ear. "There are a lot of things I want to do with you, Isabella," he murmured ominously. "I've had a lot of time to build some really perverted fantasies about you."

"Yeah?" If he thought I was going to back down from that, he was sadly mistaken. Bring it on, baby. Bring it on. "I can't wait."

He laughed, pushing up on his arms. He cocked one eyebrow at me, amusement and happiness glinting in his green eyes. "So we're okay?" he asked huskily.

I nodded, lifting my head to kiss his succulent mouth. I could deal with one other girl in his past; I'd already decided the second didn't count. I was just relieved the numbers weren't legion. Carole may be older, more experienced, and pretty, but I was the one he was having fantasies about. I was the one lying in bed naked with him. I'd pulled my T-shirt on, but nothing else, and he had definitely noticed. "We're okay," I assured him. "Thank you for telling me. I love you, Edward."

"Love you," he murmured, lowering his head just as his cell phone chirped and vibrated on the nightstand next to the bed. He groaned, putting his forehead to mine before rolling off me to answer it.

"Okay, thanks," he said after a brief moment. He ended the call, and turned to me. "That was Rose. She's on her way back to the room."

"What time is it?" I asked, glancing at the clock. "Oh, crap!" I looked at him. "You'd better put some clothes on before she gets here, or your mom comes knocking on the door."

He grabbed his shorts off the floor, sliding them up and securing them around his narrow, muscular hips. He leaned over the bed to kiss me before heading for the shower. I jumped up and gathered the condom wrappers that were strewn over the carpet before Rose arrived.

**-0-**

We returned to reality in Forks and the new semester after our little fantasy get-away in California. I got to kiss my boy at midnight on New Year's Eve, which was really what I had wanted all along. Emmett's team had won the National Championship, which was icing on a very excellent cake. It had been like visiting another world, one where famous and very well connected people came and courted Emmett and Rose, flattered his parents, and were even more than cordial to Edward and me. It was an amazing and bewildering experience, one that I was so glad to be able to share with all of them.

Edward and I managed to get into the same Chemistry class, having finished Biology last semester. The one thing I would have liked to have changed was that I had free study at the same time he had gym, and neither of us could change our schedules to coincide during that period. Alice and Angela had the same study period as I did, though, so that was fun. We ended up getting passes to spend the hour in the library, more often than not, so that we could claim a quiet corner and do our thing together in relative privacy. We all got to hang out at lunch, sitting at our usual table just like last semester, so at least I got a little free time with him during the school day.

By the end of January, Edward's regular high school hockey season was coming to a close. They had to get through the playoffs and then possibly the State championships before he began league play, which started immediately after his high school season. That meant his after school schedule wouldn't change very much, just more travel to the games and some extra time taken up on weekends. The last game of the regular season was against our arch-rivals at Port Angeles High School, and Edward seemed a little more uptight than usual as game day approached.

"Are they that good?" I asked as we sat in the stands of the ice arena the Friday night before the game. He was doing his usual Communing with the Hockey Gods, but he seemed much more nervous.

"They're good," he said, his hands clasped together between his knees, his elbows resting on his thighs. He turned his head to look at me. "It's just a pretty big rivalry, between the schools, and personally, I guess."

I looked at him curiously as he frowned at his hands. "Personally? Why?"

He took a deep breath, lifting his gaze to the ice. He sat like that for a few seconds before shaking his head and sitting up, rubbing his hands on the tops of his thighs. "Just is. Come on, I'd better get you home."

_O-kaay_…Something was bothering him, but I didn't know if it was just nerves or something else. He wasn't usually this keyed up before a game, but it was the last of the season and would clinch a berth in the State playoffs, a berth that would give them a bye in the first round – kind of like an automatic advancement. He drove me straight home, putting the car in park in my driveway. He leaned over to kiss me, and it was as thorough and thrilling as always, but I could tell he was distracted. Too soon, he broke away and got out of the car, coming over to my side to walk me up to the front door.

"I love you," he said, giving me one last, sweet kiss as we stood on the porch. "I'm sorry I'm being such a bastard tonight. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Of course. I love you, too." I let my fingers trace his thick, lowered brow, and cupped his cheek. "Get some rest, okay?"

He nodded with a smile, my lopsided Edward smile, turning his head to press his lips to my palm. I watched him walk back to his car, his hands sunk into his pockets and his broad shoulders slightly hunched. I frowned as I opened the front door and walked into the entry hallway. He was really uptight about something.

He called the next morning, seeming more like himself, and I was relieved. Jasper and Alice came to my house later that morning to pick me up to head to the Cullens', where we spent most of the afternoon watching movies and relaxing together. His dad drove him to the arena a couple of hours before the game, and Alice, Jasper, and I went to grab something to eat at the diner. We made it to the rink in plenty of time to watch the teams warm-up, and I was glad to see that Edward appeared relaxed and ready, just like he always did. Before the game started I saw his mom and dad making their way along the stairs to the seats. I waved from where we sat in the student section and they returned the gesture. I noticed Esme looked a little tense, and wondered how hard it must be to watch your son get pounded into the boards. It was bad enough when it was your boyfriend.

As the Zamboni cleared the ice for the start of the game, I was mildly surprised to see Charlie and his deputy Mark standing down by the corridor that led to the locker rooms. They were both obviously on duty. It wasn't completely unusual to see him there. Since I'd started dating Edward, my dad had made a couple of brief appearances at the rink during games, but he'd made no mention of coming tonight. I watched him curiously for a few minutes, and then turned my attention back to the ice as the teams began their last pre-game skate. They lined up for the national anthem, and the game began.

It was apparent right from the beginning this was going to be a much more physical game than most. The rivalry was strong between the two teams, neither giving any quarter in speed and checking. I cringed and brought my hands up to my mouth when Edward was slammed particularly hard into the boards right in front of us, the opposing player taking advantage of their position away from the linesmen to shove his face hard into the glass. His helmet tilted and almost came off, and I could see the fury in his eyes as he spun, shoving the other player hard and taking off after the puck.

"Fuck," I heard Jasper breath as he watched the Port Angeles player skate away. I made a note of his number – twelve—and his name – Lucard. What an asshole.

The other team led by one goal after the first period, but our guys came back and scored two in the second, with Edward assisting on both. The Lucard guy was all over him. When they were both on the ice he was persistently tailing Edward – poking, checking, and shoving, constantly shadowing and interfering. During the third period, Edward intercepted a pass from the other team and shot down the ice at an impossible speed, his teammates swinging wide to fall behind him to avoid an offside call. The other team raced to catch him, but he was far enough ahead to be able to set himself up for a shot on goal. He raced forward, juggling the puck around the blade of his stick before taking a short but powerful swing, sending the puck zinging toward the goal. It shot underneath the massive pads of the goalie to hit the back of the net with a resounding clang. The crowd rose to its feet with a roar of approval, and he raised his arms over his head, waving his stick and pumping his fists.

The Port Angeles player skated up behind him, not slowing his speed and raising his stick in front of him with both hands. He hit Edward high across his shoulders in a vicious cross-check. There was no chance for him to see the player coming or defend himself against the hit. Edward's helmet went flying off his head, and he was thrown forward through the air, crashing onto the ice face first. There was a collective, horrified gasp from the crowd as everyone fell silent. My fingers gripped the hair at my temples as I stared in dismay, tears filling my eyes. He slowly rose to his hands and knees on the ice, shaking his head as if to rid it of cobwebs, and I saw blood fling in a splattering arc from his face. My hands went to my mouth as I started from my seat, not knowing where I was going, but wanting to be sure he was all right. I stopped my scramble over people when he rose to his feet and spun toward the guy who had made the hit, throwing his gloves onto the ice and lunging toward him.

The crowd roared again as he threw a swinging roundhouse, connecting with the other player's jaw and sending his helmet flying, exposing long, sweaty blond hair. Edward grabbed the neck of the guy's jersey, yanking it over his head as they both twisted and threw punches. The referees skated up and tried to separate them, along with a couple of other players from their respective teams. The two linesmen finally managed to pull Edward away, while the referee and a teammate pulled the other guy back toward his bench. I could see Edward struggling against their hold, shouting furiously at the other player. Blood streamed down his face. He wiped at it impatiently as it flowed into his eye.

I saw Dr. Cullen making his way through the crowd, out of the stands and toward the locker room. "I'll be right back," I told Alice, and she gave my arm a sympathetic squeeze as I crawled over people and finally made it to the aisle. I skipped quickly down the stairs and made my way toward the locker rooms, looking around for my dad. I thought he might be able to get me in to see Edward. Of course, he was nowhere to be found now. I stood indecisively in the hall, just outside the locker room doors. I wasn't sure if I should just barge in, but I had to know if he was okay.

A guy that looked like a staff member came through the door. I reached out to touch his arm as he passed. "Excuse me," I said hurriedly, and he paused. "Could you tell me if Edward is okay? Edward Cullen?"

He smiled kindly down at me. "He's fine. No concussion, just a bad cut. The doc's looking at him right now."

"Thank you," I said sincerely, the breath whooshing from my lungs in relief. I leaned back against the wall, shutting my eyes and tipping my head back. I murmured a prayer of thanks, and eventually made my way back to Alice and Jasper.

"How is he?" Alice asked worriedly, and Jasper's concerned face leaned around her to hear my response.

"He's okay," I told them. "I didn't get to see him, but his dad's in the locker room checking him out, so he'll be fine."

I split my attention between the game and the corridor leading to the locker rooms. Lucard had received a game misconduct penalty, which meant an ejection from the game, for his hit on Edward. He was done for the night. I finally saw Edward appear from the locker room and make his way to the bench, a couple of butterfly bandages on his forehead. His dad lingered in the entrance to the corridor. I once again scrambled over people to make my way to Dr. Cullen, earning sympathetic glances from those who knew who I was, cranky looks from those who didn't.

"Is he okay?" I asked when I finally reached his dad. He slipped his arm around my shoulders and gave me a comforting hug.

"He's fine." His blue eyes gazed kindly down at me, but I could see the worry and the tension that almost imperceptibly tightened his features. "He's got a pretty nasty cut over his eye that's going to need some stitches. I didn't want to do it here; it will leave less of a scar if I do it at the hospital." He gave me another gentle squeeze when I bit my lip and my eyes filled with tears. "He's fine, Bella, really. You'll make sure he comes to the hospital right after the game?"

I nodded vigorously. "You'll be there?"

"Yes." He patted my shoulder as he stepped away. "I'd better go let his mother know he's fine, or she'll be storming the ice. I'll see you in a bit."

I went back once again to my seat, letting Alice and Jasper know what was happening. We won, but the game ended without Edward getting back on the ice. I could see the frustration and anger on his face from across the arena. Jasper and Alice sat in the stands with me until almost everyone had left and the Zamboni had finished resurfacing the ice. "You guys go on ahead," I finally told them. "I'm going to wait for Edward. I'll call you later and let you know what's going on, okay?"

"You don't want us to wait with you?" Alice asked, touching my arm in concern.

"Nah, but thanks. He's going to be in a mood." The three of us walked out of the stands and toward the main entrance. "We'll see you guys later."

Jasper took Alice's hand, and she waved with her other as he led her out of the building. Pretty soon I was the only one standing in the lobby. I'd just decided to go looking for Edward when Tyler Crowley appeared in the hallway that led to the locker rooms.

"Hey Bella," he greeted me, swinging his enormous equipment bag further onto his shoulder. "Cullen's still back there. He said for you to go on in – he figured you'd be worried. It's the door on the left that says 'Home Team.'" He grinned at the dubious look on my face. "It's okay. Everyone else is gone. No nekkid hockey players wandering around." He winked at me good-naturedly and left.

I walked down the hall until I found the door. I waited nervously for a little while, hoping Edward would just come out so I didn't have to go in after him. When he didn't, I pushed the heavy metal door open slowly, not sure where he was or if I was in the right place. The last thing I wanted to do was walk in on some strange, half-naked hockey player on the other side of the door. Unless it was him…

I wasn't prepared for what I did see. Edward stood there shirtless, bronze hair wet and clinging to his forehead, his hands gripping the arms of a beautiful strawberry blond girl. I must have made a sound, because both their heads snapped quickly toward me and a smug, knowing smile spread across her red lips. Tanya.

"Sorry," I said frostily. I wasn't sorry at all. I met Edward's eyes and saw them widen in horror as he pushed her away. I lowered my gaze to meet Tanya's satisfied glare with a cool stare of my own. "I thought you were done taking out the trash, Edward."

"Bella…!"

I spun and dashed down the hall, fury building in my chest. If I stayed, I couldn't be responsible for my actions. I'd been so worried about him. My thoughts had been completely focused on how much I hoped he hadn't been seriously hurt…and now…_that awful bitch!_ My emotions had been running the gamut tonight, and I trembled in the aftermath of fear and now anger. I pushed through a door that I thought led into the main lobby, wanting out into the cool night air. I found myself in another room entirely, though, filled with skates, blades, and other equipment I couldn't name. I clenched my fists and brought them to my forehead in utter frustration.

It wasn't very long at all before I heard the door slam open behind me, then shut quietly on automatic hinges. I knew it was Edward. Not only could I feel his energy, the force I was so in tune with, but, really, who else would it be? I brought my fists down to my sides and shut my eyes, seething, with my back to him. I waited for him to speak.

"Bella." His voice was so deep, so smooth, it sent reverberations through my insides, and I hissed in a breath. "Bella, it wasn't…I mean…you know…" His breath huffed out in aggravation. He tried again. "I know this sounds totally stupid, but it wasn't what you think. She just showed up, and there she was…" A short, humorless laugh burst from him. "Hell, it is stupid. Even I wouldn't believe me. Will you let me explain?"

I snorted. "Explain what, Edward?"

He was silent for a second, trying to read my mood, I guess. "Explain that I had no idea she was going to be there. I was in there changing, waiting for you. I turned around, and there she was. I mean, I know what she, well, what she was thinking, but I'm telling you, I had no idea -"

I cut him off by whirling around to finally face him. My heart was pounding in anger and frustration. "You think I don't know she was trying to set you up, that dumbass, conniving little red-headed bitch?"

His face went blank with shock. "You…know?"

I snorted again. "Give me a break, Edward. I think I know by now what you look like when you're turned on, and what you look like when you're pissed. That was your pissed face."

"My…pissed…face." He slowly repeated my words, rubbing his fingers over his mouth and chin, trying to fully comprehend the fact I wasn't mad at him.

"What, do _you_ think I'm stupid, too?" I was working into a state of high piss-off myself. "Like I would even think you'd want to kiss her _now_, when you never really did before…when I know what you look like when you want to kiss someone. Like I'm stupid enough to fall for that dumbass, unoriginal little scene. She really has no idea, does she? She really doesn't know the first thing about you, or about me, if she thought I'd fall for that one. What did she expect? Did she really think I'd be mad at you? That we'd break up or something and you'd go running into her arms? What a stupid little crackhead whore -"

"Bella." His amused voice broke through my ranting and the good head of steam I was building.

"Huh?" I stopped short and looked at him closely for the first time.

The half smile that I loved hovered around the corners of his full mouth. "God, you're hot when you're mad."

I couldn't say anything. The breath left my body and every thought flew out of my head. He was standing there bare-chested, damp with sweat, covered only in the thinnest, tightest pair of black compression pants. They rode low on his waist, clinging to his muscled form and outlining every slope, curve, and bulge they covered. What they didn't cover they accentuated –the hard contours of his chest, those abs, that layer of muscle over his hipbones, the dark trail of hair leading down from his bellybutton…I gulped, and the fire in my face and chest shot lower at approximately the speed of light.

A look of confusion and apprehension replaced his smile. "What?" he asked warily. I couldn't even begin to imagine the look on my face at that moment. Pure, unadulterated lust replaced the pure, unadulterated fury that had been coursing through me.

He stared at me suspiciously. "Bella, what?" Suddenly a look of horror crossed his features. "You aren't going to cry, are you?"

I ran the few steps between us and jumped into his arms. His hands came out, to stop or hold me, I don't think he was sure, but he caught me just like I knew he always would. I pressed my open, seeking mouth to his, my tongue pushing and sliding, my hands tangling in his wet, dark hair. He grunted in surprise, whether from my unexpected attack, my weight, or my tongue down his throat, I didn't know. I didn't care. My hands flew down to stroke over the tight, thin material hugging the firm curves of his ass and I felt an explosion of warm and wet between my legs.

"Jesus Christ, Edward, what do you have on?" I panted, pulling slightly away. His face was inches from mine, hard, concentrated, and tense. I couldn't help a small grin. "Now that's your turned-on face," I said in smug satisfaction.

He stared into my eyes for a brief second, and reluctant humor broke over his features. "Fucking hell, Bella, shut up." Those long, clever fingers pushed my jacket down my arms, and made quick work of the buttons on the thermal henley I had on. He exposed my black lace bra with the little red bows on it and groaned, burying his face between my breasts. I grinned, and only the feel of his teeth opening the front clasp of my bra could move my hands from the fantastic slick fabric covering his amazing ass. I tangled them in the second biggest turn on for me at that moment, his damp, silky hair.

"God, yes," I moaned as the scorching heat of his mouth covered my nipple. He sucked long and hard, his head bent over my breast, arms still holding me up against him. I managed to swing my legs around his slim hips, bringing the lightly clad erection he was sporting flush against the too-thick fabric of my jeans at the juncture of my thighs. "Edward," I whimpered, tossing my head back and rubbing against him.

He staggered forward, crashing into the long, wooden bench set against the back wall. We both grunted, and his mouth greedily returned to mine. His tongue slicked past my lips and curled around mine, stroking and sucking and licking. His hands slipped around my thighs, bringing me higher and tighter against his impressive erection. Another bolt of heat shot through me.

"My jeans – off," I gasped, struggling against his iron hold to wiggle out of my restrictive clothing. I couldn't wait another second to feel him against me. "Now. Please!" He set me on the bench and ripped at the button. I got another quick glimpse of him, his eyes smoky and intense, his fine nostrils flaring. Yep, definitely his turned-on face. I shivered in anticipation. This was going to be good.

I'd started carrying a condom in my bra just in case…well, just in case of this. The whole scene with Emmett right before Christmas had kind of scared the crap out of me – no way was I carrying condoms around in my pocket for a parental figure or anyone else to find in the laundry, and no way was I going to be without one and miss out on a chance to make love with Edward. He rescued it as it slid out of the loose cup of my bra before tossing my clothes over his shoulder. I dimly heard them thud against whatever they hit, and then he was lifting my thighs and kneeling slightly, reaching down to test my readiness. He made a satisfied noise and thrust inside. I screeched at the sensation. _Oh. God. Yes!_

He hissed in response and hooked my legs around the crooks of his elbows. He lifted and pushed, and I screamed again at the unexpected and sudden deep penetration. He was thrusting into me, his shoulders heaving with the effort, and I threw my head back and gloried in every hard, heavy stroke. His teeth closed sharply around a nipple, just how I liked, and my hips jerked involuntarily in response. My hands scrabbled for a hold on his sweaty shoulders before finally giving up and gripping the rough wooden back of the bench I was being shoved against. I arched my back as far as his grip would allow, tilting my pelvis for an even deeper entry. The next thrust hit what felt like the back of my throat and I detonated, shudders ripping though me, and I clamped down hard on him inside me. He only lasted another few strokes before the vibrations of my climax had him pushing hard and high, quivering as the throbbing pulses of his release made me moan and tremble once more.

We lay limp against each other. He was on his knees on the floor in front of me, his head resting on my chest. Slowly, his arms lowered to his sides and my legs slipped down around his hips. We stayed like that for God knows how long, then a soft, low chuckle escaped from him. He lifted his head to look at me, a sated, amused, and astounded look on his face. We both started laughing, hugging and clinging to each other. God, that felt almost as good as my orgasm. Almost.

"What the fuck was that?" he grinned, leaning back on his heels and looking me over carefully. "Christ, Bella. Are you okay?"

"Hmm," I hummed in affirmative, touching his face and smiling like an idiot. "I may need some help getting the splinters out of my ass." My fingers traced the butterfly bandages that closed the cut over his left eyebrow.

He nipped carefully at the inside of my thigh. "Mmm. I'll pull them out with my teeth."

I laughed. "That ought to be interesting." My hand trailed from the side of his face, down his neck and across the hard muscles of his chest. He shivered in response. I let my hand fall limply to my side and just lay there, replete and exhausted and still tingling all over. Suddenly my eyes snapped open, and I struggled to sit up, searching frantically around us.

He looked at me curiously, one eyebrow arched. "Lose something?"

"Those—your pants," I said, my eyes examining the clothing strewn all over the floor. "For God's sake, tell me we didn't lose them and they're still in one piece!"

The eyebrow arched higher. "You suddenly have a thing for sports equipment? Compression pants?"

I leaned forward and cupped his face in my hands, brushing the tip of his regal nose with mine. "Sweetie, you know how you feel about the garters that match this bra?"

He leaned to the side and quickly thrust the thin material at me. "Here they are!"

I smiled smugly and fastened my bra. "I thought so."

He leered at me. "Hang onto them, mia Bella. That's the closest you're ever going to get to Spidey-tights."

Dammit, I was wet again.

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**Protectiveward next chapter:**

**"You won't touch her." Edward's voice was serious and soft, raising the hairs on the back of my neck.**

**A/N: If you want to know what Edward said to Tanya in the locker room, I'm going to be posting some outtakes and EPOvs on www . adifferentforest . com sometime soon-ish. Link is on my profile.**


	24. Chapter 23: EPOV excerpt

**Stephenie Meyer's characters, the rest is mine.**

**Sarah beta'd this - and we all owe her big - I mean really big - for setting everything else she has going on aside and getting it done so quickly. She makes me want to become a bigamist so I can marry her, too, and live happily ever after.**

**Thanks everyone for all of the support and interest in the story - and in Edward's POV - your reviews and comments give me the happies.**

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CHAPTER 23: EPOV excerpt

I finished undressing, stripping off my pads and the under shirt, leaving only my compression pants. I searched through my scattered belongings for my shower stuff. I'd purposefully waited until almost all of the other guys had left the locker room; I was still too infuriated to talk rationally to any of them. I didn't let my temper get the best of me often, and they knew me well enough to leave me the fuck alone when it did. The only person I wanted to see right now was Bella. I knew she'd be worried, and that spiked my anger. I didn't want her to worry about anything, and the fact that she was upset was another thing I could lay at the feet of Lucard.

Tyler came around the corner, dressed in his street clothes and carrying his bag over his shoulder. He and I were the last two people left in the locker room. He froze when he saw me, and then continued forward with careful, deliberate steps. It was as if he'd unexpectedly come up on a rabid dog and was trying to continue on his way without getting bit. It would have been funny if I wasn't the rabid dog in this scenario.

"Um, hey, Cullen," he said in an overly cheerful voice. "I'll, um…see you later?" He started moving sideways toward the door, keeping his back to the wall.

I turned, still looking for my shower bag. "Later, Crowley," I muttered, and then spun back around as a thought occurred to me. He froze, his eyes wide and his hand raised to push open the door. I shook my head at the fearful expression on his face. "Hey, if you happen to see Bella out there, send her in, will you? She's probably worried." I reached up to touch the stupid bandage over my eye, wondering if I could get it wet to wash my hair. Didn't matter, I decided. I was going to anyway.

"Oh." Tyler heaved in a relieved breath. "Yeah. Okay. I will." He bolted out the door.

"Thanks," I murmured, standing with my hands on my hips as I surveyed the mess in front of my locker. Stupid shower bag had to be here somewhere. I dug through my equipment duffel, which was where it should be, but I couldn't find it. I dumped everything out onto the floor in frustration, and when I still didn't see it I started throwing things behind me, using this as a sorting method. Had I already taken it into the showers? I didn't think so, but I'd been so pissed when I came back to the lockers after the game ended that I might not remember. I stomped into the shower area, poking my head into every stall, but no bag. I even went into the toilets, but still no bag. I growled in frustration, feeling the tenuous hold I had on my wicked temper start to slip. Fucking hell, I just wanted a shower, Bella, and some food, and not in that particular order.

I was snarling under my breath as I started back to my locker, ready to grab a towel and just rinse the sweat and anger from my body. I'd have to find my jeans and shirt now, though, and my shoes. _Fuck_! I came around the corner and skidded to a halt, seeing a feminine figure standing by my scattered clothes and equipment. My heart gave a glad leap before I realized the form was too tall, too foreign, too…blond. Strawberry blond. Christ, would tonight's fuckery never end?

"What the hell are you doing here, Tanya?" I gritted from between my teeth as I continued toward my locker. This was the absolute last fucking straw. The last thing I needed was Bella walking in here and seeing this shit – Tanya sneaking in, and me…almost…naked. Oh, fuck. I stopped in my tracks, only a few feet separating us. Tanya wouldn't…would she? Yeah, she would.

She smiled, tipping her head, her gaze taking in my almost bare body. "I just wanted to see if you were okay. You took quite a hit out there tonight."

"I'm fine, Tanya. You shouldn't be in here. You need to leave. Now." I watched her warily, knowing what she was up to and why she had slipped into the locker room when she knew I was the only one in here. I gazed at her dispassionately, wondering what the hell I ever saw in her. She was pretty, sure, but the attractive exterior hid the self-centered little cow inside.

She took a step closer to me. I held my ground, giving her a cold stare. I knew I had to get her out of here and quick before Bella came looking for me. After the whole Carole thing in California, I didn't think she would put up with another girl from my past getting into my shit. Not that there were that many, for Chrissake, but damn if they weren't being shoved in our faces lately. Bella shouldn't have to put up with it – and I imagined she's tear both Tanya and me to pieces if she walked in on this. I wouldn't blame her, and I really, really wanted Tanya out of there, but the thought of Bella going all smackdown caused a hot thrill to shoot through me. Tanya was close enough to see the reaction, but misunderstood the reason.

"Edward," she purred, taking another step closer, almost right up against my chest. I grimaced at the thought of her touching me anywhere, let alone on my bare skin, and I grabbed her arms to stop her from getting any closer. My head spun around in horrified slow motion as I head the locker room door open and soft footsteps enter the room. I knew it could be only one person even before I saw her. Bella.

The look of sorrow and shock that crossed her face an instant before anger took over broke my damn heart. I never, ever wanted to be the cause of that look on Bella's face. I never wanted to hurt her, but the way things had been going lately…my serious lack of judgment regarding my past romantic entanglements was coming back to bite me in the ass – which was fine, I deserved it – but it was also biting Bella, which really fucking wasn't okay.

"Sorry." Bella's voice was cold and flat as she met my eyes with a dismissive flick before focusing on Tanya. I tasted bile in my throat as I shoved her away from me, but I knew it was too late. I'd hurt my girl, and that was unacceptable.

Bella made some reference to taking out the trash, which was actually pretty accurate, before she spun on her heel and stalked out of the room. I called after her in desperation, in anger, in fear, but I could hear her footsteps rapidly fading down the hall. She didn't even stay and confront us, like she typically would. Oh, shit.

I felt Tanya put her hand on my back, and the control I had been holding over my temper snapped. "Get your fucking hands off me, Tanya, and don't ever even think of putting them on me again." I whirled on her, taking a step forward, forcing her to take a step back. "You don't get to touch me. You don't even get to speak to me."

"But -"

"No." My voice was low and calm – it got that way when I was really, really pissed. She took another step away from me. I was trying to reign in the fury that coursed through me, left over from the on-ice confrontation with Lucard and from what had just happened. "You don't even deserve to be in the same space as that girl. She's worth one hundred of you, Tanya, and she means the world to me. Get it through your head. She's the one I want. She's the one I've always wanted. I love her. She makes me feel like I can do anything, be anything, as long as she loves me, too. You just make me feel ashamed I ever associated with you."

Her eyes were wide with shock. "Edward -"

"I don't have any time for your stupid shit, Tanya, so let me make this clear. If you come near me or Bella again, I'll end you at Forks High. I can do it, you know I can. You leave us alone – no more accidental meetings, no more talking to me, no more even looking in my direction, or hers – and we'll just go our separate ways. If not, I can make sure your junior and senior years are absolutely fucking miserable. Do you get me?"

She nodded once, quickly, and I turned my back on her. She wasn't important; Bella was. I realized everything I'd said to Tanya was true – Bella meant everything to me. Now I just had to tell _her_ that. She had every right to be pissed, but I was determined to keep at her until she listened. I'd beg, grovel, plead…I would do everything in my power to make her see what she meant to me.

I ran out of the locker room, knowing Bella couldn't have gotten far. She didn't know her way around the arena very well, and she certainly wouldn't leave without calling my ass on the carpet first. I deserved it, every second, every word, because this was completely my fault. I only hoped she could forgive me. I hoped that she wasn't so mad that she wouldn't listen, that she wouldn't be able to overlook – one more time – a mistake from my past. It was a horrible, deadening feeling, knowing something I'd done was causing her pain and that there was absolutely nothing I could do – I couldn't change my past. It terrified me and made me frantic. I wanted to be in control, I wanted to fix this, but this time I wasn't sure if I could. Uncertainty was my kryptonite – I hated it, it made me feel weak. I only hoped she still saw me as her superhero.

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**I'll have Chapter 24 up tomorrow. Thanks!**


	25. Chapter 24: Face Off

**Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight characters. The rest of the story here is mine. Don't steal (plagiarism is stealing). My friend u2shay got her story stolen this week - the nasty little thief took it down after being confronted, so that's good - but still. Stealing is so low class.**

**Sarasumbrella and silentnc beta and so much more for this - I've given Sarah quite a workout with the regular chapters plus the EPOV - but isn't EPOV the best kind of workout? silentnc beta'd like a bazillion chapters to help me out before her baby makes an appearance - that's going above and beyond, too. Love you ladies. Love.**

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**CHAPTER 24: Face Off**

We walked out of the arena, his equipment bag over one shoulder and his other arm around me. Edward nuzzled gently against my ear, telling me in that soft, silky, cultured voice all the dirty things he wanted to do to me while I wore the garters that matched my bra. I giggled and shivered, heat spreading through me despite the enthusiastic sex we just had in the ice arena, of all places. It never failed to turn me on, those filthy words coming out of his mouth in that velvet voice, and dammit, he knew it. We swung around the corner to where the Volvo was parked, and suddenly his entire body stiffened. It took me a second to see three figures hulking by the hood of the car. His night vision was so much better than mine, plus I was still feeling slightly drunk from our escapade in the equipment room.

"Lucard," he said curtly. His arm tightened briefly around my shoulders, silently telling me to stay close even as he lowered it to his side and dropped his equipment bag to the ground. Alarm washed over me when I realized it was to keep his hands free. _What the hell?_

"Cullen," the middle figure responded in a quiet, almost jovial, voice. "I see you have your cunt with you. Cullen's Cunt." The way he said it, almost caressingly, was even more hideous than the horrible word itself. "Has quite a ring to it, don't you think?"

I instinctively reached out and placed my hand on Edward's back as he started toward the speaker. Fury was evident in every line of his big body. He brought himself up short when he felt my touch, tense and quivering with rage. My head was spinning. I had no idea what was going on, but it wasn't good. This was the guy he had scrapped with all during the game. He was the one that had delivered the last cheap hit from behind that had caused the cut on Edward's forehead.

I saw a flash of teeth in the darkness, and knew this Lucard had seen Edward's reaction. He slowly tipped his head back and inhaled dramatically. "Ahhh. I can smell her, Cullen. You two have been very naughty in the locker room, haven't you? Is she any good?"

Edward lunged forward. My hand fisted uselessly in his coat and he tore away like I wasn't even there. The other two large hulks with Lucard stepped forward to block his path.

"You won't touch her." Edward's voice was serious and soft, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. He never took his focus away from Lucard, his eyes narrowed and intense, his shoulders and arms rigid and straining with the effort to control himself. "I'll kill you before I let you touch her."

Lucard _tsked_, and I realized he was enjoying this. "Temper, temper, Cullen. I just wanted to congratulate you on a game well played, and to make sure you weren't too badly injured." His eyes flickered to the bandage over Edward's brow, and then moved curiously to me when I made a hesitant, nervous move toward Edward, seeking reassurance. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your pretty little cunt?"

Edward's fists clenched at his sides. He was literally trembling with suppressed violence. I glanced at the three very large males across from us and knew this was going to end badly. "Edward," I whispered in a scared, shaky voice, taking a step forward and touching his back again tentatively. I could feel the muscles in his body tense and ripple as he fought the instinct to attack and protect.

"Get in the car, Bella."

"Edward, don't -"

"_Get in the car!_"

I started in surprise; I'd never heard that tone of voice from him, especially directed at me. I moved slowly and almost gasped in relief as I realized Edward was deliberately matching each of my steps backward, keeping himself between me and the other men. He wouldn't leave me unprotected, not even for a moment. Heady relief flooded through me as I realized we might actually get out of here without a really horrible – and unequal – fight. He moved with me to the passenger side of his car, settling me safely inside, never taking his eyes from Lucard. He shut the door firmly behind me, and I watched, helpless and fearful, as he stalked back around to the driver's side. I wasn't sure what he would do now that I was in the car. I divided my attention between Edward and the other three figures as he swooped down to grab his bag and place it in the backseat. He paused as he opened the driver's door, gripping the frame tightly and giving the group one last, frustrated glare.

"Lucard." His voice rang with contempt and fury. It was a warning and an acknowledgement all at once. He got in the car and sat staring out the windshield for a brief second before he backed up and pulled out with a squeal of tires, handling his beloved Volvo roughly for the first time in my memory.

The only sounds breaking the tense silence in the car were the muted whine and rumble of the engine and our accelerated breathing – mine from fear and his from rage. A couple of miles down the road he slammed on the brakes and screeched to a stop, pulling over to the gravel shoulder. He leaned back against the headrest, squeezing his eyes shut. I stared at him apprehensively, my brain trying to process what had just happened. He hit the steering wheel hard, twice, and I jumped.

"Edward...what…who…" Was that my voice, so breathless and wheezy? It must be. I was still terrified. I had been so sure they were going to hurt him, badly. And then start on me.

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and finger, something he only did when he was really agitated. I guessed this qualified. He let out a gust of air, and his jaw tightened.

"James Lucard. He goes to Port Angeles High and plays for their team, obviously. We had a, uh, run-in a couple of years ago, and don't really get along." If I wasn't still reeling I would have snorted at that understatement. There was something more going on here, but I was still too shocked to understand.

He hit the steering wheel once more, and I jumped again. "It's taking everything I have not to turn around and go after him," he gritted through tightly clenched teeth. "I can't _stand_ it!" He took a couple of quick, deep breaths, trying to get himself under control. "But I can't, not with you here. Can't," he muttered, almost to himself. "Can't risk it. Fuck!" He bent his head to the steering wheel and pressed his forehead to where his fingers gripped tightly, his knuckles white with strain.

I reached out until my hand hovered over his shoulder. I wasn't sure if it was safe to touch him. His entire body was tense, on edge. He caught the motion out of the corner of his eye and turned his head to smile grimly at me. I could see him struggling with his anger. He reached out with a gusty sigh to grip my hand tightly. "Distract me."

"What?" I shut my eyes and brought his knuckles to my mouth, relieved he had mastered the urge to go after those guys.

"Distract me. Say something so I don't turn around and go back there."

"Um, we should get you to the hospital before your mom and dad come looking for you?" The gash above his eye had started to bleed again, what with him banging his head against the steering wheel. I could see small specks of bright red against the white strips of bandage.

He gave a short laugh, shaking his head and turning my hand to place a careful kiss to my palm. I knew the worst was over when he added a warm, wet lick to the center. "I'm sorry, Bella. I'm sorry you had to see that tonight. I never wanted you to be in that situation." His green eyes met mine. "It scared the holy fuck out of me, you being there. It was the only thing that stopped me...I wanted to…I should have…"

"It's okay, Edward. I'm so glad you didn't do anything stupid. It wasn't your fault. " I shuddered, thinking how close we had come to a different ending, a different purpose for visiting the hospital tonight.

The corner of his mouth kicked up grimly at that, but he sighed and put the car in drive. He pulled back out onto the street, keeping my hand firmly in his.

"I guess we should swing by the hospital so my dad can take a look at this." He took his hand off the steering wheel to brush it over the cut on his forehead, grimacing when he saw fresh blood on his fingertips.

"Does it hurt?" I asked in concern.

"No, I've had worse. It probably does need a couple of stitches, though."

My stomach lurched, and I instinctively pressed a hand across my abdomen. He smirked. "You can wait in the car if you want."

I shook my head and took a deep breath. "No," I said in a firm voice. "I'll be okay."

"No, you won't, and I don't want to have to worry about you fainting. Should I take you home first?"

"No," I said emphatically. Not only did I not want to leave him by himself at the hospital – I was nothing if not a supportive girlfriend, damn it – but I also didn't want to leave him alone so he wouldn't be tempted to go after James Lucard. I knew his dad would be there, but I was afraid that if he had to wait by himself, if he had time to think about it…I cast a sideways glance at his tense form. The muscles in his jaw were jumping and flexing, his fingers still white on the steering wheel. Oh, yeah. He'd go after him.

I didn't relax until we were in the hospital, until they paged Dr. Cullen, and he had appeared to take us into a small exam room. I scrunched myself into a chair in the corner while his dad removed the bandage, cringing a little when Edward gave a small hiss of pain as it was pulled from his forehead. His green eyes darted to mine, softening in sympathy. I felt terrible. Here he was about to get stitches, and he was feeling bad for me. I pulled my knees up to my chin and managed a smile for him.

Dr. Cullen pulled a tray toward him that was covered with a blue cloth. On it I could see needles and syringes, scissors, suture, tweezer-looking things, and piles of gauze. I blanched. Edward kept his eyes on mine as his dad cleaned the small but gaping wound on his forehead. I jumped to my feet as Dr. Cullen picked up the syringe and brought it toward his eye.

"Do you want juice? I'll go get juice!" I blurted, spinning toward the door. "Be right back!" I could hear both of them chuckling as I ran out of the room.

I made it about halfway down the hall before I stopped my mad dash, bracing against the wall and holding my stomach until I was sure I wasn't going to throw up on the floor. A couple of nurses gave me concerned looks, but I just smiled with what I hoped was reassurance before I stood straight. I passed my hands over my clammy face and staggered to a chair that was conveniently placed outside of another exam room. I sat with my head between my knees and shook. I knew it was as much a delayed reaction from what had happened in the ice arena parking lot as much as it was the thought of needles poking through his skin and him hurting. I felt better after a few minutes, and thought that a drink probably wasn't a bad idea. I sat up, rubbing my damp palms along my jeans, and another nurse came up to me.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I managed a small smile. "My boyfriend is getting stitches, and I thought I'd bring him a juice or something."

She squeezed my shoulder comfortingly. "Sure thing. Come with me."

A little while later I returned to the exam room, poking my head in cautiously and holding out two foil covered plastic juice containers as an offering. Dr. Cullen was smoothing a medium sized band-aid over Edward's eyebrow.

"All done," he assured me as I moved into the room. He pushed the tray with the nasty looking instruments into the corner.

Edward grinned at me and nodded his head at the juices in my hands. "For me?"

"Yeah." I absently handed him one while I opened the other and chugged it down, examining the bandage covering his wound. He smiled, watching me with amusement. "Wow. That doesn't look too bad."

"Six stitches," he informed me cheerfully, and I regretted drinking the juice so fast.

"_Six_?"

"Yeah." He shrugged, jumping down off of the exam bed and reaching for his jacket. "I'll be a little mini-Frankenstein for a while." He held his arms out stiffly in front of him and staggered around. I scowled and smacked him – not funny. "Dad says it won't leave too bad of a scar."

"A scar?" Okay, so now I was just repeating his words. My brain had yet to come back on-line. He had stitches. In his _face_.

"He can just add it to the collection." Dr. Cullen shook his head. "It'll keep that mug of his from being too pretty."

Um, yeah, probably not. Edward started to waggle his eyebrows at me, but winced when it tugged at the stitches. He touched the bandage gingerly, scowling carefully.

"Are you heading home?" his dad asked.

Edward glanced at the clock. "Yeah, I guess we probably should. I'll drop Bella off at her place, maybe stay for a few, and then be home."

"Okay, then." His dad winked at me. "Thanks for bringing him in, Bella. I'll see you later."

I glanced curiously at Edward's calm face. I couldn't tell if he had told his dad about what had happened in the parking lot at the ice rink. We walked out of the hospital, and as we approached his car I paused and put my hand on his arm.

"Did you tell your dad about James Lucard?" I asked. "About what he did after the game?"

He sighed, looking away before wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me against him. "I mentioned it. I'm hoping it was just a one-time thing, because he was in Forks for the hockey game tonight. If you see him again, Bella, anywhere, even from a distance, promise me you'll let me know right away. Or let your dad know. James Lucard – he's crazy. Don't mess around if you see him, okay? Just let one of us know."

"Okay." I squeezed him tight, and then pulled back to peer up into his pretty face. "What did happen tonight, Edward?"

"Well, like I said, he and I don't get along, for a lot of reasons. He's a bully, but a dangerous one. There's no reason for him to be in Forks after tonight, so I don't imagine we'll be seeing him again, but just in case you do..."

"I promise I'll let you know," I assured him. I examined his face carefully, but his features were calm and relaxed. I leaned up on tiptoe to give him a soft kiss. "Do you want me to drive?"

He started to roll his eyes, but grimaced at the discomfort the action caused. This was going to be a fun couple of weeks. "No. I'm fine. Let's get you home. I'm sorry we had to miss the party."

I shrugged as we got in the car. "No big deal. I'd better call Alice, though, and let her know you're okay." I dug my cell phone out of my pocket and hit the speed dial button for her number. After all the crazy events of the night, the only thing I really wanted was to be home – safe, secure, and together.

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**Join us next time, when Alice asks the age -old question:**

**"Is what they say about hockey players true, Bella?"**


	26. Chapter 25: Backchecking

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and characters. The rest here is mine.**

**I might have wirtten the bones of the story, but my betas Sarahsumbrella and silentnc help flesh it out and make it pretty. Thank you.**

**And thanks to everyone who is rec-ing and reviewing, reading and alerting. It's amazing - thank you.**

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**CHAPTER 25: Backchecking**

Winter faded into spring, and for Edward, high school hockey faded into league play. Our high school team had made it to the State quarterfinals before losing to the team that went on to win the State Championships. For a small town school in the boonies of western Washington, it was an amazing season. James Lucard made no reappearance in Forks, and the incident faded to just a bad memory.

Edward spent a lot of time at practice and playing, traveling around the state and even into Canada. We always managed to carve out some time together, though, and had begun to investigate colleges. He had a quite a few scouts talking to him and his dad, both collegiate and from the National Hockey League. We had lengthy discussions about fields of study and programs of various colleges across the country. He had decided long ago that he would play college hockey, and had promised his dad he would finish his undergraduate degree before he went off to play in the NHL. I thought it was a wise course of action for his future. I just didn't see how we would be able to attend the same university, though. He had potential offers from schools all over the country and parts of Canada, and it seemed that the front runners were all from back east. It wasn't that I was hesitant to move so far from home and Charlie, exactly, but I couldn't fathom how I would be able to afford out of state tuition. Especially out-of-state tuition at the institutions he was considering.

Charlie and I talked a little about my financial situation when it came to college, and I decided to look into student loans and grants before getting into a deep discussion with Edward. I don't think it even occurred to him we wouldn't be going to the same university, and at this point I wouldn't disabuse him of that notion. There was no way I would let my situation compromise his choices in any way. He had some amazing opportunities in front of him, his skill and talent made the possibilities for his future exciting ones. I knew I had to let him make the best decision for himself, and then see what the best decision for me would be. It wasn't easy – I didn't even want to consider being parted from him like that, going to different schools in different states. I couldn't begin to imagine what that would do to our relationship. After many hours of solitary consideration and soul-searching, though, I knew it was what I had to do. I had to let him make his choice, and then see what options I had for staying as close to him as possible. Not that my situation was less important than his, it was just more flexible. I didn't say anything to him – I just kept my options open as we looked over the different schools and programs that sent scouts and representatives to his house.

Other than that great looming concern, I was having the time of my life. I loved him, deeply, every part of him. Not just the good stuff, like his beauty, his kindness, and his excellence in bed. I could even find his temper, his sulkiness, and his tendencies toward perfectionism endearing. We were turning into one of _those_ couples – always together, always touching, always a pair. Alice and Jasper had grown closer as well, and Angela and Ben never strayed from their course, together as they had been since the ninth grade. It was fun being part of a couple, and part of a well-matched group. We were happy.

There was an unusual warming trend in late March. There had been a succession of days that were not only sunny, but pleasantly balmy. Angela, Alice, and I had taken to coming out to the stadium bleachers during our free period to soak up the sun while we had the chance. Of course, the fact that Edward and Jasper had Gym during the same period, and the teacher had changed the course plan to include outdoor sports to take advantage of the weather, was just an added bonus.

Today their class was playing baseball, shirts versus skins – and Edward's team was skins. He had taken off his T-shirt like the rest of his team, and was playing left field. It was the position closest to where we sat in the bleachers, and the three of us watched him and Jasper unabashedly. His bare back gleamed in the sunlight, rippling with muscle as he bent his knees and crouched down slightly, pounding one fist into his baseball glove. His T-shirt hung from the waist of his cotton athletic shorts, pulling the band down slightly, and my mouth went dry. The muscles in his calves and thighs flexed and bunched impressively. A baseball cap covered the top of his wild bronze hair, but even at this distance I could see wisps of it sticking out from under the edges. He looked…glorious.

Two freshmen girls who were taking advantage of the weather – and the view – sat on the bleachers a few rows down from us. Their heads were together as they talked quietly and animatedly. The murmured name caught my attention. There was only one Edward in the school, and he was right in front of us in all of his half-naked glory, so there was no doubt who they were talking about. I scowled. That was _my_ Edward-chest they were drooling over.

Alice noticed my glare and turned to me with a grin. "So…" she began a little too loudly, so the girls could overhear. "Is what they say about hockey players true, Bella?"

I raised a brow. "Is what true?"

"You know." She nudged me playfully and gave a meaningful look toward the two girls. "What they say about hockey players in bed. That their pelvic and groin muscles are so developed from skating they can go for hours…have amazing control..."

I struggled not to laugh out loud. I took a peek out of the corner of my eye and saw that the freshmen had gone completely still, their heads held at an angle that made it apparent they were listening to every word.

"Well," I said in a confidential manner, scooting toward Alice but keeping my voice at a level that carried. "He does do this one thing…you know, with his hips…" I deliberately let my voice trail off suggestively and gave an exaggerated shiver. Everyone seated on the bleachers leaned toward me. It was all I could do not to laugh. "I mean," I fanned myself, really getting into the act. "It made me scream so hard I actually lost consciousness in his bed, right underneath him…"

I did laugh as one of the girls actually fell off the bench at that outrageous statement. They both scrambled to gather their things, blushing wildly and casting me worshipful glances as they scurried away. I was turning to Alice to give her a high-five when I heard another thud, and looked over to see that Angela had fallen off the bleacher seat as well. She got up, dusting herself off with a sheepish grin and a shrug, her face as bright red as I'd ever seen it.

"Really?" I asked in disbelief, glaring at her. "Not you, too?"

She just shrugged again and made exaggerated panting motions.

"Is there anyone in this school _not_ crushing on my boyfriend?" I asked in frustration.

"Um, no, probably not," Alice said.

"Probably not what?" Jasper climbed up the aluminum benches to where we sat. We hadn't noticed that the Gym class had been dismissed early.

"Bella wanted to know if there was anyone in school who wasn't lusting after Edward," Alice explained as he sat next to her, taking her hand and giving her a brief kiss. "I told her probably not."

Jasper grinned at me. "Oh. Well, Alice is right, you know."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, at least you're not."

"Sorry," he admitted cheerfully. "I'm probably the worst. I'd love to stick my dick in his ass."

We all choked, and I heard Edward's voice behind me. "What are you guys talking about?" He jumped over the benches on his way up to us, and I couldn't help but gawk at the marvelous display of bare skin and coiling muscle. "Stick your dick in whose ass?"

"Yours," Jasper admitted with an evil grin, and Edward froze for a second, but recovered admirably.

"Yeah, right," he snorted. "Like that would ever happen." He waited a beat as we absorbed this. "It would be my dick in your ass, sweetcheeks."

Angela made a strangling noise. I glanced over at her, and saw that her eyes were glued in reluctant fascination on Edward's bare chest, dropping down to the dick in question. She caught my glare, grabbed her books, and bolted. I cast my eyes to the sky, raising my hands up in exasperation.

"No one's dick is going in anyone's ass," I growled.

Edward's wide eyes swung to mine, and Jasper and Alice rose with a snort.

"Too bad for you, Edward," Jasper said in mock sadness as they walked away. We had a perfect view as his hand dropped purposefully to rub Alice's ass suggestively.

"What the hell just happened?" I asked rhetorically. He sat behind me and chuckled, pulling me between his legs, my back against his bare chest. He smelled like sunshine, sweat, and Edward. He settled against me deliberately, lifting my hips slightly and rubbing my ass directly over his dick. I jumped in startled response, and he laughed again.

"Where _do_ you want it?" he murmured, teasing, but heat instantly blazed through me. All the strength left my muscles at his husky, sexual tone. I moaned in lust, dropping my head back on his shoulder.

It was his turn to start in surprise – he certainly hadn't been expecting my reaction. "Jesus," he murmured, pressing me down harder against his instant erection. "Jesus, Bella."

I turned my head on his shoulder to meet his smoldering gaze. His bright eyes went to my mouth, and I licked my lips in anticipation. I saw a glimpse of flashing green just before his head ducked to mine, his lips forceful, all wet tongue and nipping teeth. The breath left my lungs as I absorbed the sheer pleasure and the unmistakable evidence of his desire. I whimpered helplessly as his hands gripped my shoulders, lifting and turning me into his chest as if I weighed nothing. I dimly heard the shrill blast of the whistle being blown, signaling the end of the period, but his tongue only slid further into my mouth. I tried to bring my hands up against his bare chest, to let him know he had to stop, but he just pulled me to him, taking the kiss impossibly deeper. I sagged bonelessly against him.

His hands slid down to my hips and he flexed up as he pushed down, bringing my legs around his waist. I took advantage in the change of position to lean back slightly with the last shred of my rational strength.

"Edward…" My voice was breathless, husky, low. "We've got…class…"

"No." His voice was just as husky, but determined and much more forceful. "No class. Do you think I can go to class like this?" He rocked his hips up into me, where I was already hot and damp between my legs, and I lurched forward against all that rippling skin. "Shit, Bella."

He kissed me again, and any sense I had left fled when his tongue slid over mine. He tasted too good to be true. I barely noticed when he lurched to his feet, one arm supporting my ass and the other my shoulders as I clung to him, wrapped around him, and kissing him for all I was worth. I realized he was climbing the bleacher stairs, and I held on tight until he stopped, juggling me a little and lifting his head. I unlocked my ankles from around his waist and staggered slightly as my feet hit the ground. I saw that he had climbed up to the top of the grandstand seats, up to where the announcer's box was located. It was a small enclosed building at the very top, about eight feet wide and maybe fifteen feet long, with the wall facing the field lined with windows to give an unobstructed view of what was happening down below. I glanced at the heavy door as he held me to his side, noting that the knob had a bulky lock with a line of numbered buttoned numbers on it.

"Edward," I began. "What -" He reached down and punched in a series of four numbers, turned the knob, and the door swung open. "How -"

"One of the benefits of being a team captain," he said. "All the combos are the same at the school for all the sports departments."

Well, that seemed dumb, but I wasn't going to complain. Edward held the door open slightly, glancing around to make sure no one saw us, and nudged me inside. It was too warm and smelled a little stale, but all thoughts of my surroundings flew from my head as he crowded in behind me, shutting the door. He swung me around by the arm so that I was pushed up against the smooth metal, face-first. His big body covered mine from behind, sandwiching me between him and the door, and I couldn't move. I ached, suddenly and fiercely, between my legs and the tips of my breasts.

"Want you," he muttered, pressing me hard into the door before easing back slightly and wrestling with my jeans. His hands snaked around my waist, deftly unfastening the button and lowering the zipper. I struggled half-heartedly, but his chest anchored mine, pushing my cheek thrillingly against the cool metal of the door. His hips were pulled back only far enough to give his hands room to work, stripping me of my jeans and panties down to my ankles. His fingers probed between my legs with familiar confidence.

"You're so fucking ready," he murmured, and I shuddered. "Thank God." I heard the snap of elastic as he shoved his shorts and jock down, and I shivered convulsively as his tongue traced my ear. "Condom, Bella."

"Bra," I managed to gasp, bringing my hands up on either side of my face to brace myself. I was breathless and burning, the tickle and scorch between my legs growing exponentially as the seconds ticked by.

His breaths were loud and harsh in my ear as he shifted, still behind me. He released the pressure on my chest only to push his hips into mine, keeping me pinned against the door. One long-fingered hand reached around to cover my breast, kneading and rolling, before tugging the neckline of my T-shirt down and dipping into my bra. His calluses scraped thrillingly against my sensitive flesh. It took him a little longer than necessary to find the small, plastic square, but he finally pulled it out from between my breast and my bra with agonizing flair. His weight shifted yet again, his chest squashing mine and his hips retreating slightly. The unmistakable sound of plastic tearing and wet rubber being rolled onto his erection filled the room. I shivered again, and his feet urged my ankles further apart. One hand curled around my hipbone, pulling me back into him, while the other put light pressure on the small of my back, urging me to arch my ass toward him. The hand on my back lifted, and I felt it trail down between my legs before guiding his thick, hot length into me. I gasped at that first dragging stroke, shrieked at the easier slide of the second, and moaned at the third, which pressed as far as it could into me before stopping, holding, throbbing.

"Oohh," I keened, spots dancing behind my tightly squeezed eyelids. "Oh my, Edward…"

He pulled out, and a cry of denial burst from me. "Sorry, sorry," he gasped, turning me easily before bending and grasping my thighs, lifting me up and sliding my back against the door. "You're too short for that, baby." He pinned me there with his weight so that he could take one hand and guide himself back between my legs. We both moaned at the exquisite sensation of him filling me, and I had to admit this angle felt much better. He kissed my mouth, placing one hand on each cheek of my ass, holding me, tilting me just exactly so for each stroke. He pushed and pulled with his hands as he pushed and pulled with his hips. The sudden feel of his fingertips glancing along our flesh where we were joined sent me into an overload of awareness. Sensation sharpened, ached, and overwhelmed.

"Oh...my…God…I'm…come…ing…" I gasped with every sharp thrust, and then I did, banging my head against the door, arching my back against it, pushing my pelvis into his and undulating with the spasms of my pleasure. My inner muscles pulsed around him.

He made a harsh sound of satisfaction, pushing into me high and hard, his body going still and then shuddering in sharp jerks. I could actually feel the swell and throb of him as he came. The unbelievable sensation turned my aftershocks back into current shocks, and I bit down hard on the bare flesh of his shoulder.

He leaned into me as our shivers and trembles blended into one another. He was holding me up against the door by his weight alone, and as his legs finally gave out we slid in a messy heap on the floor. He managed to twist so that I ended up sitting across his lap, but our feet got tangled together along with my jeans and his shorts. We sorted through our discarded clothing, giggling and exchanging soft kisses as we helped each other dress. I fastened my jeans and watched with interest as he rose to his feet and arranged himself, settling his shorts into place and tugging the T-shirt over his chest.

"You've got on your gym stuff," I pointed out to him. "How are you going to get your other clothes?"

He rubbed a hand through his hair, eyeing me critically. "You don't look too bad. Are you going to your last class?"

I shifted uncomfortably. I was still wet, slick, and swollen between my legs. "Um, no. I'll just tell Charlie I wasn't feeling well and went home before sixth period. But what about you?"

"I'll drive you home and then head to my place. My mom and dad are at work, so they won't notice. We'll just have to get to school a little early tomorrow so I can switch the clothes in my gym locker."

"Good plan." Edward gave me a slow, deep kiss, taking my hand and sneaking out of the announcer's booth. Luckily, everyone had gone back inside, so we were able to make it back to his car without being observed.

**-0-**

With Edward at practice and traveling to games, I decided to get a part-time job. My best friends were all dating and spending time with their significant others, so I had some extra time on my hands. Plus, I figured that any extra cash would come in handy, depending on where I finally decided to go to college. Edward was really interested in what the scouts from Boston College and Dartmouth had to say, although he'd also been talking about Princeton and Yale's programs lately. I was thrilled and excited for him, while at the same time trying to battle my apprehension. My grades were excellent, but there was no way I was getting into Princeton or Yale. I started looking at other colleges in those areas that had good writing programs. I was interested in a strong writing or literature program, maybe journalism, or just good old English. I hadn't made a final decision.

I started working at Newton's Outfitters, the local sporting goods store owned by Mike Newton's family. It wasn't a lot of money, but they were flexible with my hours. I was also pleasantly surprised to find that Mike was kind of fun to work with, now that he wasn't constantly hitting on me. I started working in late April, and they were glad to have the extra help, especially with summer fast approaching.

Mike and I were in the store late on a Friday afternoon, the two of us scheduled to work until closing. The excitement of the school year being almost over was tempered by the heavy, damp drizzle that was spitting from the sky. No one was in the store, and we were both draped over the counter, chatting amicably about what we wanted to do this summer, and the stress of the upcoming SAT and ACT college entrance exams. We cleaned up what little was necessary and finished our closing tasks.

"I've just got to lock up, Bella, go ahead and take off," Mike said. "See ya."

"Thanks, Mike." I smiled at him and went behind the counter to grab my keys. Edward would be on his way to my house soon for dinner, and I'd promised to cook one of his favorites, pasta carbonara, for him and Charlie tonight. He liked to load up on carbs the night before a game, and what man didn't like smoked meat?

I walked out into the small, deserted parking lot. There was only my old truck and Mike's Suburban parked toward the back by the trees. It was starting to get dark, and I glanced grimly up at the overcast, heavy sky, the cold drizzle chilling my skin. I sighed and gave a small shiver, reaching to unlock my car door.

"Mmm." A soft, menacing voice sounded in my ear. "You smell even better in the rain, Cullen's Cunt." A large, looming male presence had suddenly appeared behind me.

I gave a shocked, startled shriek, spinning around to face him and dropping my keys on the wet asphalt. _Great, Bella. Drop the only meager form of defense you have_. My klutziness was literally going to be the death of me.

James Lucard. I'd known it was him the minute I heard his chilling voice calling me that horrible name. "What…why…What are you doing here?" I tried to inject strength and purpose into my voice, but failed miserably. I flattened myself against the door of my truck as he stepped closer, trying to slide away from his ominous, intimidating form. My heart fluttered frantically in my chest. Adrenaline and fear coursed through me.

He smiled, a terrible mockery of Edward's gorgeous half-smile. "Ahh, Miss Bella Swan. I came looking for you, of course." He moved closer still, eliminating the small distance between us. My shoulders rose defensively before I could stop the revealing action.

"Wh-why?"

He tipped his head to the side, his glittering dark eyes never leaving mine. I felt like the proverbial rabbit trapped in a cobra's gaze. "To see what the fuss is all about. To see what has Cullen so… very… interested." His finger reached out as if to touch my cheek, and I flinched. His smile widened. He leaned forward, towering over me, bracing one hand on the door of my truck next to my head. He shifted so that his body practically covered mine and mere inches separated us. He was too close for me to even knee him in the groin. I was trapped, and if he was trying to scare me he was doing a bang-up job. My heart pounded in terror.

"Edward – Edward won't like this." It was lame, but it was the only thing I could come up with. I was dead scared. There was something just so cold, so nasty, so _evil_ about him.

"Do you think so?" he breathed, lowering his head so that our faces were scant millimeters apart, his voice hissing soft. "Really? I can only hope. That's why I'm here, of course. That, and to get better acquainted with you. Cullen has a finer appreciation for good pussy than I gave him credit for." He leaned down, picking up my car keys, brushing against the entire length of my body as he stood back up.

My breath left my lungs in a gasp. I knew he wanted a reaction from me, but I couldn't help myself. This was scary, really terrifyingly scary, and I had no experience on which to base my reactions. I was an overly-protected police chief's only daughter. This kind of shit just didn't happen to me. And the tone of his voice when he said Edward's name…something was going on here, something beyond my comprehension. It was certainly more than just an inter-school athletic rivalry.

"Bella, Bella," he crooned, subtly moving forward until I had my back pressed up against my truck again and was completely helpless. He took my trembling hand, tracing my palm with one fingertip and placing the keys in the center. Arrogant fucking bastard. "Come play with me, Bella. I want to play with you. I want…to play…with you." His thumb and finger pinched a damp strand of my hair and ran along its length. I drew air into my lungs to scream.

"Bella?" I let out a startled and thankful woosh as I recognized Mike's worried voice. I frantically looked around James Lucard to see Mike standing uncertainly in the middle of the parking lot, frowning at us. "Is everything all right? "

"Mike!" I found the strength to dart around Lucard. He'd moved away from me when he heard Mike's voice. I ran to him and didn't look back.

Mike gazed over my shoulder and then he took a good look at my face. His expression changed to shock. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

I spun around and saw there was no sign of Lucard. I don't know how he disappeared so quickly or where he went – I was just thankful he was gone. I let out a very shaky chuckle, running my hand through my damp hair. "I don't know. I'm not really sure."

"Who was that?" He moved closer to me and hesitated as I drew in a sharp breath. My lungs still weren't working properly.

"He plays hockey for Port Angeles High." I tried to play it off, as the last thing I wanted to do was get into a lengthy discussion of the situation with Mike Newton, of all people. I didn't even know what was going on myself. "Just…trying a psych-out, or something."

Mike was still frowning at me. "Do you want me to call your dad – Chief Swan?" he asked hesitantly. I must not be very convincing.

"No! No, I'm okay. It's all right," I hastily assured him.

He tossed his keys in his hand, clearly not convinced. "Cullen?" he asked in a softer tone.

I instantly felt bad for thinking impatient thoughts of him only a moment before. He really was concerned. "No," I replied, trying to smile. "Really. Mike, thank you. I'm fine now."

"Okay," he said, still sounding doubtful, and turned to walk to his SUV. He paused, watching me until I got into my truck.

I sat in the cab for a second, putting my hands on my steering wheel and lowering my head onto them. I let out another weird kind of laugh that was more like a sob. What the hell? The adrenaline crash was making me even more shaky and weak, and I knew I couldn't drive right then. I'd just sit and wait until my heartbeat returned to normal – maybe in about a hundred years. I was dimly aware of Mike pulling out of the lot, and hastily reached over and slapped the lock down on my door. I was starting to freak out about being alone again, but my hands were shaking too badly to drive.

While I waited for my physical responses to settle, my mind spun. Should I tell Edward? I knew that's what Lucard wanted – he was seriously determined to piss my boyfriend off, for some reason. Could I give him the satisfaction? Could I worry Edward that much? How pissed off would he be if I didn't say anything, and he found out what happened? He'd be beyond furious, and rightfully so. I'd promised I would tell him if I ever saw James Lucard again. And if I didn't say anything to him, how could I bring the subject up so I could find out what was going on between the two of them? I had a right to know, now more than ever. I scrubbed my face, and to my shock I found myself suddenly sobbing into my hands. I was more frightened than I had realized. The crying jag was over fairly quickly, and I didn't really feel better at all afterward. That sucked. I sniffled, feeling a pity party coming on. I was scared, wet, cold, and uncomfortable, my eyes were swollen and puffy, my nose running, and I was wiping snot on my sleeve. And I didn't even feel better. How sad was that?

I jumped and screamed at the soft tap on my window, almost hitting my head on the roof. _Edward_. Of course Mike called him; I must have looked scarier than I thought. How long had I been sitting here freaking out in my truck?

"Bella?" Edward's voice was soft and strained. "It's me, Bella. It's okay. Open up."

Sniffling, I unlocked the door and pushed it open, scooting over so he could slide in behind the wheel. He shut the door behind him and instantly enveloped me in his strong, warm arms. I burst into sobs again, and this time when I was done I did feel better. He rubbed away my tears, and then just stroked my back, my cheeks, my forehead and face when I started calming down a little. Frowning, he stared into my eyes, and leaned down to tentatively press his lips to mine. When I sighed, he pulled back and pressed that amazing, soft mouth to my forehead.

"What happened?" he asked gently.

I gritted my teeth and tucked my head under his chin. I wrapped my arms around his waist and held on to him as tight as I dared, reveling in feeling safe and protected. My whole world had shifted. "Lucard," I whispered softly, and felt him tense in reaction. I rubbed my face against the skin of his neck and collarbone, taking great comfort from the heat and solidity of him.

"What happened?" he repeated in the same gentle tone when I didn't continue.

I gripped him even tighter, as if it could keep away the memory of being so frightened. It helped. "He was here, in the lot, when I left work. I didn't see him at first. He didn't have a car or anything, just…all of a sudden he was there. Behind me. T-touching me." I shivered, and his arms tightened in response. I could hear his teeth grind above my head. "Nothing really…bad." I swallowed. "Just trying to freak me out. It worked." I gave a humorless laugh. I pulled back slightly to look into his face. "He wanted me to tell you. He wanted you to know."

Edward's features were tense, and he nodded shortly. He grabbed me suddenly, holding me hard against him and rocking back and forth. "I'm sorry, Bella. I'm so sorry." His voice was rough and clipped, agonized and regretful. "You shouldn't be in the middle of this. It's all my fault. I'm so, so sorry."

"What's going on?" I asked, and my voice was muffled against his chest. "Something else is going on here, Edward. I need to know the truth."

He was silent for a long time. I started getting mad, frustration finally taking over, and mad felt a whole lot better than scared. He sighed deeply, easing back to kiss each of my eyelids, my cheeks, and my mouth. I would have pulled away, but there was nothing sexual about the touches. It felt like he was trying to reassure himself.

"Yeah, you need to know. I should have said something sooner, but…" he grimaced. "I guess I hoped it would go away, and that there wouldn't be any reason to get you more involved." He brooded down at me.

I touched his cheek. "I need to know."

"Yes," he agreed. "You do. You need to know, to be careful. More careful," he amended when I opened my mouth to protest. "I know I have a chance of you cooperating if you know why." I was glad to see my favorite half-crooked smile make its appearance.

He held out his hands for my keys, and I frowned at him. "I'll drive you home. We'll talk there," he said. "You can bring me back later for my car." I dropped the keys into his palm and he started the truck, putting on his seatbelt and motioning for me to do the same. I didn't want to be that far from him yet, but scooted over and buckled my seatbelt. "Besides, your dad has a part in this, anyway."

Wait…what?

* * *

For the next chapter teaser I had a hard time deciding between using Franticward:

**We both froze, wide eyed and horrified, staring at each other as we heard Charlie's cruiser pulling up in the driveway.**

Or Adorableward:

**His hair was still sticking up all over, looking to me like he just had wild monkey sex, but then it always kind of looked like that.**

So I decided you guys have been so awsome I'd give you both. :)


	27. Chapter 26: Slapshot

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, it's characters, and a whole lot more. I own what's left in this story. It's not much, but it's mine.**

**Thanks to Sarasumbrellla and silentnc who help me write this mo bettah. Sarah, what can I say. I love you, and thanks so much for helping me through my re-formatting of the chapter and e-mail fail. You da best, lovey.**

* * *

**CHAPTER 26: Slapshot**

He refused to explain any further. He just shook his head and told me I'd get the full story when Charlie got home. I didn't think this was fair, for a couple of reasons. One, I deserved to know, and no more putting me off or playing whatever weird man-games he had going on in his head. Two, I hated waiting for anything, especially when it was as important as this. He wouldn't be budged, though. He just held my hand or stroked my arm all the way back to my house, like he was trying to reassure himself I was there and in one piece. He sat at the kitchen table once we got home, quiet and contemplative, as I slammed ingredients and utensils on the counters to express my displeasure.

After letting that go on for way too long (I was beginning to annoy even myself and my arms were tired), he sighed, stood, and came up behind me. He put his hands on my waist, stilling my angry movements. I let out a frustrated breath, and he leaned over to put his mouth close to my ear, nuzzling in my hair.

"Bella," he murmured, and whatever he planned to say next I'll never know. I turned my head sharply over my shoulder to retort, and our lips brushed.

With a soft groan, he settled his mouth over mine. He was gentle at first, his tongue slicking across my lower lip and lapping, his mouth sucking and making me whimper in return. He pulled my hips back against his, and I twisted my body around to face him, relieving the pressure from the weird angle on my neck so I could enjoy the sensations properly. Nothing was worth missing Edward's kisses. His mouth explored mine leisurely, then grew more demanding. I brought my hands up to his face – his splendid, make-the-angels-weep face – and rubbed my fingertips against the rough bristle at his jaw. Shivering, I slid my hands along his neck to fist in that bronze fuck-me hair. I could feel him hard and heavy against my stomach, and I despaired at the difference in our heights. I need to feel him, right _there_. After the scare I'd been through tonight, I needed him – I needed him to make me feel safe, warm, and secure. I moaned and pressed harder, rising up on my tiptoes and rubbing against him.

Suddenly my mouth was wrenched from his and I felt my feet go out from underneath me, his large hands cradling my thighs. He effortlessly lifted me up on the counter before his mouth was back on mine, nipping, plunging, kissing, running along my jaw and down my neck. He pulled my shirt up and palmed my breasts, his fingers tracing the lace edge of my bra, dipping underneath to brush each nipple simultaneously. I threw my head back and moaned in appreciation, scooting my butt to the edge of the counter. He reached down and popped the button on my jeans, lowering the zipper, and I felt his fingertips caress the bare skin of my stomach. _Oh…yes_.

His fingers finally slipped underneath my panties. His hips slid between my legs, and I was aware of his hand moving slow and easy between our bodies, rubbing us both. I lifted my head slightly to look at him. He had his head tipped back, a faint smile curving his lips. Holy hell, I was getting wet just from the goddamn look on his face. Was there anything hotter in this world than him giving me pleasure and taking his own? I slid off the counter, causing his hand to slip out of my pants. He looked down at me with a slight frown on his face.

"Bella? What -" I lowered myself to my knees on the floor between him and the cabinets. His hand slowly came up and brushed the hair from my cheek as I held his eyes, my fingers moving to the buttons on his jeans. "Bella, your dad…"

"I'll make it quick," I said, arching my brow at him and he groaned.

"I don't think…we shouldn't…_Christ_!"

I yanked his jeans down to his ankles, and grabbed the waistband of his briefs. I was just about to rip those out of my way when the timer suddenly went off on the stove. I jerked back in surprise, and promptly banged my head on the counter. I saw stars. Edward staggered back, his knees not quite cooperating. He came up against the kitchen table, leaning his fine ass on it, his arms supporting his upper body behind him and his pants down around his ankles.

"Bella! Bella, are you okay?" He fumbled with his jeans, pulling them up and coming back across the room to crouch down in front of me. His hand curled around my skull and rubbed the back of my head. "Did you hurt yourself?" Was he _laughing_?

"Are you laughing?" I demanded.

"Are you hurt?" he countered.

"No."

He snorted with mirth. "Then, yeah, I guess I'm laughing." The snort turned into a full-blown chuckle as he reached down to pull me to my feet. "Jeez, Bella, you're the only person I know who could give themselves a concussion while trying to give head."

I stood, pulling my jeans up, and scowled at him. Anger was much more dignified when your pants weren't gaping open and your panties weren't dripping wet, but…anyway…"It's not funny."

He tipped his head and considered. "It's kinda funny."

"You're cut off," I threatened.

He grinned, running his hand through his hair. It was messed beyond repair from my hands gripping and tugging and pulling…_Focus, Swan_. "Bella, it's hard to take a threat like that seriously when I can still smell you on my -"

We both froze, wide eyed and horrified, staring at each other as we heard Charlie's cruiser pulling up in the driveway. "Please tell me you were joking!" I screeched. "Does it smell – like _sex_ – in here? Ohshit ohshit ohshit – your hair!"

"What? What?" he asked frantically, tucking in his shirt and buttoning his jeans. He spun in a circle, scrubbing both hands over his head, and it would have been funny if we weren't both about to die. I spun to the stove, searching frantically for something to cook, burn, scorch, anything, to cover any weird sex smell, just in case he hadn't been teasing me. God, how could I be getting turned on again? What was _wrong _with me?

"Button your jeans!" he hissed, smacking me in the ass and tugging on the waist. "Holy fuck, Bella, leave the food alone and help me out here!" He brushed his hands over my head, smoothing and tucking strands of my flyaway hair. I heard the cruiser door slam, and his eyes were wild as they searched my face. The conclusion must not have been good because he grimaced and flinched. He tried to straighten my top, but I slapped his hands away. "Fix your bra, then, for chrissakes!" he ordered.

I wiggled it around until both girls were seated where they should be, although they seemed perky at the attention they were getting from Edward. He glanced down and grimaced again, then threw himself across the room into the chair at the table. "Jesus, Bella!"

I flushed, and that certainly wasn't helping the situation. "It's your fault", I whispered harshly. I held each of my palms to an erect nipple, a wooden spoon clutched in one hand and the pasta in the other. "Quit looking at me. And stop yelling!"

He leaned his elbows on the table and rubbed his face in his hands. His hair was still sticking up all over, looking to me like he just had wild monkey sex, but then it kind of always looked like that. Huh. Maybe it wasn't that noticeable, then, except to said monkey-sexer.

"What is your problem?" I hissed, stirring pots frantically. Thank god I hadn't turned on the cream sauce or the bacon before he got frisky, otherwise the fire department would be charging up the front walk along with Charlie.

"Bella," he said slowly, voice muffled as his face was still covered by his hands. "Your dad has a gun."

I couldn't help it – I giggled. Then I snorted, trying not to laugh. I knew he was freaked out, and he had every right to be, but most of the time in stressful situations I have a really inappropriate and uncontrollable urge to laugh. This definitely qualified, and I burst into hysterical cackles. I heard Charlie opening the front door, and Edward had lifted his head to stare at me incredulously.

"Bells?" Charlie called, and I heard him hanging up his coat and unbuckling his gun belt. Edward visibly relaxed at the sound, and this sent me into further giggles. Charlie came around the corner into the kitchen with a smile on his face in response to my laughter, stopping at the sight of Edward sitting at the table.

"Edward."

"Hello, Chief Swan."

I had to turn back to the stove and bite my lip. He sounded so calm, cool, and in control, like we had just been discussing homework or something. How the hell did he _do_ that?

Charlie's eyes flickered to me before going back to Edward. "I didn't think you'd be here until later, Edward. I didn't see your car out front."

He shifted in his seat slightly, and a serious look came over his chiseled features as he remembered why his car wasn't here. "Yes, well, about that, Chief Swan…We need to talk to you about something…" his voice trailed off and Charlie's suddenly hostile and suspicious face jerked to me.

I rolled my eyes. "Relax, Dad."

Edward may have paled a bit. "Oh! Oh, no, it's not…it's nothing like that …" He cleared his throat and this time _his _cheeks were red. Maybe he was thinking about what it was like right before Charlie came through the door. "It's kind of about -"

"Time for dinner," I said firmly, setting plates and silverware on the table in front of him. As much as I was dying to know what was going on, I didn't want the food I had fixed to go completely to waste. I had the feeling no one would feel like eating after this particular conversation. "Edward, you set the table. Dad, you go wash. We can talk about it after dinner."

I served the pasta as we all sat down to eat. Eventually, Charlie leaned back in his chair, patting his belly. "That was good, Bells."

I smiled in thanks and picked his plate up to carry to the sink. Now that we were getting close to the point of talking about James Lucard again, I was getting nervous. Charlie sighed, and as I moved back to the table I saw his eyes move between our tense faces.

"Okay," he said, leaning back in his chair. "What's up?"

I reached to take Edward's plate, but his hand stopped me. He nodded to my chair, and I sat down slowly. I noticed he hadn't eaten as much as he usually did, and I felt bad. I made a mental note to package up the leftovers for him in hope that he'd have his appetite back later and want more. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and Charlie moved his gaze back to Edward's face, sensing he was the one that needed to start the conversation.

"Chief Swan," Edward began, looking at his hands for a second, then meeting Charlie's gaze determinedly. "I – we – need to tell Bella about James Lucard."

Charlie was completely silent, his eyes staying on Edward's. He suddenly had his cop face on, serious and stern. "Why?" he finally asked.

Edward took a deep breath, but kept his eyes on Charlie's. "Because he's been in Forks a couple of times lately. He was waiting for us in the parking lot at the ice arena after the game against Port Angeles a couple of months ago, and he was in the parking lot at Bella's work today, harassing her."

Charlie sat straight up in his chair at that, and leaned toward me. "Bella? Are you okay? What happened?"

He obviously did know something about this James Lucard. "Um…" I peeked at Edward and saw that his mouth was set in a tense, thin line. He tried to soften his expression to encourage me, but it was still a little scary. I was the one to take a deep breath this time. "Nothing happened, really. He was just there, waiting for me after work today. I didn't see him until I was at the truck – he just appeared out of nowhere." I paused, shutting my eyes and remembering. I felt Charlie's hand tentatively touch my shoulder.

"Bells. Bells, honey, I have to ask. Did he touch you? Did he…hurt you? In any way?"

I opened my eyes and looked into his concerned face. Tears blurred my vision, but I could sense Edward, his hands fisted on the table in front of him, waiting for my answer. "No…no. Not really." I swallowed, trying to keep myself from crying. I had been so scared, though. "He…touched…my hair, and my hand, I think, but that's it. Mike came out of the store, and he left." Out of the corner of my eye I saw Edward jerk and then settle. Charlie glanced at him, but was apparently satisfied that he had himself under control as he faced me again.

"James Lucard is bad news," Charlie finally said, settling back in his chair. I snorted, and he smiled a humorless smile. He rubbed his hands over his face, and continued to watch me with a glum expression. He heaved a sigh. "You need to know the full story, Bella, and stay the hell away from James Lucard."

Edward leaned forward suddenly, taking my hands in his and holding on to them tightly – right in front of Charlie. My dad's eyes went to our clasped hands and his mouth twitched, but he said nothing. "Let me, Chief Swan," he said softly. "Let me start the story, and you can fill in anything I miss."

Charlie nodded, and Edward frowned down at our hands before lifting his face to meet my gaze. "I've known James Lucard for a long time. Not well," he added hastily when my brows shot up in surprise, "but, like, from hockey, league games, stuff like that. Known who he was, at least, and to avoid him as best I can." He grimaced. "Especially during games. He's a pretty violent individual, and plays just this side of legal on the ice. I've had my share of stitches and bruises thanks to Lucard over the years."

He lifted one hand to absently touch his forehead, where the sutures had most recently been necessary, and then pinched his nose like he did when he was agitated. His other hand stayed wrapped around mine. "A few years ago – I was what, a freshman?" He looked at Charlie, and Charlie nodded. "We were at an away game in Port Angeles. After the game a few of us went out to grab something to eat before heading home. Jazz was with me, he was playing hockey back then, and a couple of other guys from the team. We walked to a café right around the corner from the rink. We weren't there very long. We had to be back to the arena and catch the team bus home. As we were walking through an alley behind the restaurant, we saw two people. One was James Lucard. The other was a girl." He stopped, and his fingers squeezed mine. He looked down again. "He was hitting her," he said softly. "Really hitting on her. We were so shocked, but the four of us ran forward, yelling at him to stop." His beautiful green eyes drifted shut. "There was so much blood. It was…pretty bad. Three of us grabbed him off her and held him while the other called 911. The cops and ambulance came, took them both away. We didn't make the team bus back to Forks."

I was trembling. I didn't know what I expected, but it certainly wasn't this. His eyes were focused on our hands again, but I couldn't speak. Charlie cleared his throat when Edward didn't continue. "The girl was from Forks," he said, and my mind frantically tried to think of someone my freshman year having injuries like Edward had described. "She was beaten very badly." Charlie's hand reached out to cover both of ours. "Edward and the other boys were ready to testify against Lucard. Chief Taylor in Port Angeles spent months preparing them and getting everything together."

"What happened?" I asked in a shaky voice when he paused.

Charlie heaved a sad sigh. "She dropped the charges." At my gasp he continued quickly. "She was so badly traumatized, both mentally and physically, everyone thought it best that she go somewhere else to get the help she needed to recover." I could tell this tore at Charlie. While he believed in doing the best thing for your child, he was a cop through and through, and he hated injustice. Letting Lucard get away scot-free after what he had done would not sit well at all with Police Chief Charlie Swan, but Dad Charlie could understand doing whatever it took to make his child well again. He loved me that much – I knew he did.

It was silent in the kitchen. Charlie finally gave our clasped hands a pat and asked Edward, "Can I pick him up, officially? Did he do anything when you saw him at the ice rink? Have you seen him since?"

Edward shook his head. "No. He didn't do anything, or say anything, that you could pick him up for, legally. Mostly innuendos, no outright threats or anything like that. He was just…letting me know. Letting me know he knew I was with Bella, too. I haven't seen or heard from him at all since then."

Charlie scrubbed his face again. "I'm sorry, Chief Swan," Edward said quietly. "I'm sorry I got Bella involved in this. I would never, ever willingly put her in a position she could get hurt. I -"

Charlie clapped him on the shoulder, interrupting his apology. "It's not your fault, Edward," he said gruffly. "You boys did the right thing. Sometimes in life doing the right thing turns around and bites you in the ass."

Edward huffed out a breath, and they both turned to me. "You have to extra careful, Bells." Charlie said, and Edward nodded emphatically in agreement. "James Lucard is dangerous, really, truly dangerous. I know you didn't do anything foolish to attract his attention or anything, but you have to promise me you'll be careful."

"Okay," I whispered.

"I'll call Chief Taylor in Port Angeles and let him know what's going on here. Maybe he can keep an eye on things at his end," Charlie mused. "Edward, did you tell your parents you saw him after the game?"

Edward nodded his head. "Yeah. I hoped it would be a one-time thing, but with him going after Bella alone this time, I guess I was wrong." His face was murderous.

"Well, I'll talk to them, too, and see about getting a restraining order. You have to promise you'll tell me if you get so much as a glimpse of Lucard, anytime, anywhere. Don't do anything stupid, like try to take him on yourself." Charlie raised a meaningful brow, and Edward flushed guiltily. Charlie stood up, carrying the remnants of our dinner to the sink.

"I'll get it, dad, don't worry about it. Go watch your game."

"Thanks, Bells. I'm going to make some phone calls." He paused on his way to the family room, leaning and pressing an awkward kiss to the top of my head. I blushed. "And, Edward?"

"Yes, Chief Swan?"

"You can call me Charlie."

Edward smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. Charlie gripped his shoulder in support, or commiseration, giving him an easy slap on the back as he went into the family room. I got up, and Edward followed, helping me clear the table and load the dishwasher. We were silent as we went through the motions. My head was whirling with all the information they'd given me. I was horrified that someone could be that evil, that anyone could hurt another person like James Lucard had hurt that girl. I couldn't imagine Edward witnessing something like that. Witnessing it, and being a strong enough person to stop it and follow through with making sure Lucard was punished, even though it didn't turn out that way. It wasn't the first time I realized how strong Edward was, and I didn't mean physically. It would be too mushy to say out loud, but he was one of those rare creatures, honest, principled, and willing to show it.

"I love you," I said fiercely, throwing my arms around his neck.

"I love you, too," he returned, just as fiercely. "Bella, it would kill me if something happened to you – if you got hurt because of me."

I looked up at him. "It's not your fault, Edward. You were wonderful. That girl might have died if not for you and your friends, right? How can you be sorry for that?"

"I'm not sorry for that. I'm sorry that you were scared, that you have to be careful, that you're in Lucard's sights because of me. That he touched you." His face was strained and grim as he stared down at me. "I can't stand the thought that he might…do something to you." His teeth ground together. "You being in danger…" His entire body tensed in denial, in fear for me.

"I'm going to be careful," I assured him, laying my head on his chest and hugging him tight. "I won't do anything to make you and Charlie worry. Maybe he'll just go back under whatever rock he crawled out from, you know? He's obviously trying to freak you out – to get a reaction from you."

"It's working," he murmured into my hair. He took a deep breath, and stepped deliberately away from me. His brows were lowered over his eyes, which he kept on his hand as it stroked slowly over my hair. "Bella." He swallowed, but still wouldn't meet my gaze. "I think we should stop seeing each other until we know what he's planning. If we aren't together, maybe he'll leave you alone."

I jerked back in utter shock and stared at him, trying to read his suddenly hard face. I felt the blood drain _out_ of my cheeks for once and my lips felt numb. "Wha-what?

"Bella, I'll do anything to make sure you're safe."

My arms dropped away from him to hang numb and useless at my sides. "You don't want to see me anymore?" I breathed, trying to comprehend what he was saying. I thought I was going to throw up – on him. My brain finally caught up with my initial, physical reaction to his words. "Or you don't want me with you because of James?" My eyes dared him to say it.

He shifted, swaying slightly. His entire body was taut. "Bella, don't you see? He's focused on you because you're with me. Nothing else matters – it boils down to that. You are in danger because you're with me. And I can't bear it." His fists clenched, his nostrils flared, and his eyes swam, reflecting his conflict and misery.

Uh-oh. I could feel the rage boiling up from my chest, staining my cheeks. My body trembled with the force of it. I grabbed his hand and my truck keys off the counter and stomped down the hall to the front door, pausing in the archway leading into the family room. "We're going to get Edward's car," I growled at Charlie's surprised face. "We'll be careful, we'll drive slow, and I'll be back soon!"

I dragged Edward behind me, which any other time would have been funny – tiny little me dragging the big bad hockey player. "Get in," I gritted through my teeth when we got to my truck. I felt huge with my anger. I fumed, and he sat quietly during the short ride to the Newton's store, not looking at me. I pulled in the lot and threw my truck into park roughly, jerking to a halt next to his silver Volvo. I took a few deep breaths to try to organize my thoughts, wrestling with the red haze of anger, and finally turned in my seat to glare at him.

"What the hell, Edward?" was the best I could come up with at the moment.

He sighed, looking out the window. He still wouldn't meet my gaze, and his shoulders were hunched forward. His entire body radiated despair and defeat – I'd never seen him like this. It made me even more scared. "Bella -"

"How could you s-say that to m-me?" I was horrified that my voice broke, but it was all just too much. I fought the scorching sting of tears in my eyes and the heavy weight of sobs in my chest. He couldn't leave me. He couldn't. I couldn't even imagine…No! My mind recoiled from the possibility.

He squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bride of his nose in one hand as he slumped in the seat. His voice was low and despondent, but determined. "Bella, I…it's not safe. He knows he can use you to get back at me. It's not safe to have you involved with me right now. Don't you understand?"

"No!" I shouted, clenching my fists. "I don't understand at all! It's already too late. I _am_ involved with you, Edward, and James knows it. How does not seeing each other now help that? Tell me!"

He glared at me now. "Tell you what? That I love you? I do, I fucking love you, more than anything – you know that. But I won't see you hurt because of me. I won't see your face in place of that girl he almost beat to death when I shut my eyes, Bella. There's nothing I won't do to keep that from happening! _Nothing!_"

We were breathing heavily, sitting stiffly in our respective corners, facing each other. My heart steadied when I saw the pain on his face. A vein stood out on his forehead, and the tendons and muscles in his forearms were prominent under his skin as he clenched his fists against his thighs. He swallowed audibly and looked me straight in the eye. "I'm terrified, Bella. Even imagining you being hurt…you don't know…you can't understand…"

The anger drained out of me, suddenly and completely, at his tortured admission. "Edward," I said softly, making no move to touch him yet. He was too tightly wound. "Think about it. How would it be better if we don't see each other? You won't be with me. I'll be alone – alone before and after school, alone on the weekends. He already knows we're together, and that we have been for a while. If he does come after me, he'll do it whether we're together or not, right? Don't you see it will just make it easier? At least if we're together it will be harder for him to get to me. I'll feel safer – I'll _be_ safer – if you're with me." I couldn't tell him the emotional pain not being with him would be much worse than anything James could do to me.

He just stared at me, but I could see him thinking about what I said, turning it over in that crafty little brain of his. I slid over on the seat toward him. "We'll be careful together, Edward. We'd be so goddamn miserable without each other we wouldn't notice the first thing that was going on around us. We'd be in more trouble, not less."

He reached out and grabbed me roughly to him, holding me tight, pressing his cheek to the top of my head. I said a heartfelt prayer of thanks – I'd never meant one more in my entire life – and wrapped my arms around his waist. I breathed him in, relieved beyond measure. I'd never let him go, not ever. He couldn't say things like that to me and expect me to stay sane. He held me for a long time before I felt his mouth pressing into my hair.

"I'd be miserable without you, huh?" he asked, and I could still hear the strain under the amusement in his voice.

"Yep." I snuggled closer and smiled. "Goddamn miserable." I felt the reluctant rumble of a laugh go through him, and then he sighed.

"Pretty Goddamn miserable," he agreed, and tipped my head to kiss my lips.

* * *

**Teaser for next chapter - Bella's still in love, and who can blame her...sigh...**

**Even after all this time the sight of Edward Cullen could make my heart stop in my chest.**


	28. Chapter 27: Hip Check

**Stephenie Meyer created and owns the characters. The rest here is mine.**

**A round of appreciation and applause for my betas Sarahsumbrella and silentnc. What would I do without you?**

* * *

**CHAPTER: 27: Hip Check**

We were vigilant over the next few weeks, but there was no sign of James Lucard. Charlie hoped that the restraining order and the talk Chief Taylor in Port Angeles had with Lucard would keep him from bothering us again. They felt that James was targeting Edward in particular because of their long rivalry both on and off the ice, but spoke with Jasper and Alice and their parents, as well as the other boys that had been there the day they found James attacking the girl. Edward and Jasper were convinced that James was just biding his time, and refused to let us go anywhere by ourselves. I couldn't imagine what they had seen that day and how it must continue to affect them, especially when Edward had made it clear he was having nightmares of me in the poor girl's place. It almost broke my heart when he told me. After hearing that, Alice and I decided we wouldn't complain. We did everything we reasonably could to be safe and not worry our over-protective parents and boyfriends.

Edward continued to play well on the ice. There seemed to be a scout from a university or the NHL at just about every game. He was excited about some of the offers he was receiving; it seemed the universities wanted a commitment from him even before his senior year in high school. I helped him look over the information and programs the various schools offered, but internally I was filled with anxiety and a little despair. There was no way I could afford the places he was most interested in, even if I was accepted. Dartmouth and Princeton now topped his short list, and I could tell from how he acted and the way he kept going back to the information on Dartmouth that it was fast becoming the school he favored. My suspicions were confirmed when he told me the scouts from Dartmouth would be at his next game. He was hyper and fidgety, constantly reviewing reports and film of the opposing team and their coaches, even more obsessively than usual.

"I can't afford to blow this," he told me the afternoon of the game as we sat out on the chaise lounge on his balcony, enjoying the warm spring weather. I was sitting between his stretched-out legs, his arms wrapped securely around me, his chin resting on the top of my head.

"You've never blown a game in your life," I said reassuringly, snuggling against him.

"I have bad games," he returned. "Everyone does. What if I suck tonight?"

"What if you don't?" I tipped my head back to stare at the underside of his chin. His jaw was clenched, and he stared out over the emerging green lawn. I leaned up to press a soft, wet kiss to the vulnerable skin of his throat. "You're going to psych yourself out if you don't stop worrying. They've seen you play before, right? And you don't suck."

He was quiet for a moment, and then looked down at me with the crooked grin I adored. "I guess not." His gaze turned speculative. "I can think of something that might relax me."

"Yeah?" I swung around so that I was straddling his narrow hips. He leaned back against the cushion, putting his hands on my hipbones and rubbing suggestively. I grinded down on him with a smirk, but he held me still. I raised a brow in question.

"Kiss me," he said softly. "Just…kiss me."

I stared at him, trying to read the emotion in his eyes. I slowly leaned forward and took his upper lip between mine, sucking very gently, running my tongue along the smooth, soft skin. His lips parted, and I slipped my tongue into his warm, wet, responsive mouth. He pulled me closer as we kissed and touched and kissed some more, until his mom's voice came over the intercom, telling us it was almost time to leave for the arena.

We got there early to give him time to warm up and dress. Dr. Cullen and I wandered down to the concession stand, getting Cokes and some popcorn as a snack. We brought everything back to the seats, trying to get organized and balance the food and drinks on our laps.

Esme gasped as she picked up her purse to set it aside. "Oh no, I forgot to give Edward his mouthpiece!" She pulled it out of her bag. "We threw it on the stove to boil, and I forgot to give it back to him."

"He's got others," Dr. Cullen said comfortably.

His mom and I exchanged a knowing glance. I took the curved piece of plastic from her. "I'll take it down to him," I said. "He's already freaked out enough." If he didn't play well I didn't want him to be able to blame it on not having his favorite mouthpiece or something. I knew how superstitious all the players were.

There were only a few people wandering around the arena. It was still early enough that the crowds hadn't arrived, and there was nobody guarding the entrance to the locker rooms. I could see a number of players, coaches, and staff standing in the long corridor. Nobody said anything to me as I made my way through the clusters of people, keeping my eye out for Edward or someone who I recognized—_aha_!

"Hey, Rick. Do you know where Edward is? I've got his mouthpiece." I held up the evidence.

"Hey, Bella. Yeah, he's over there." He nodded his head toward the end of the hall, and I thanked him.

I dodged the groups of people and came to the end of the hall where it was much less crowded. I saw him facing the wall, his hands braced against it as he stretched his back and legs. I froze, and my jaw dropped.

He had on his compression pants and shirt, white socks, athletic shoes, and nothing else. The thin black material clung lovingly to his magnificent body, outlining every dip and valley, every swell and ridge of muscle. He pushed upright, bouncing on his toes and shaking out his arms, and I could see the white cord of the earphones for his iPod snaking down his chest. Um, where _was_ his iPod? My fingers itched to go searching for it…

He started jogging in place, lifting his knees rapidly, almost like he was running up stairs. I just stood gaping at him as this continued for a few minutes, and then he bent sharply at the waist, hugging his knees to his chest. _Um…flexibility…_He twisted from side-to-side before raising an arm over and behind his head, pushing out his wide chest, his stomach going concave between the jut of his hipbones. He grabbed his elbow with the opposite hand and pulled, stretching the muscles. He repeated this on the other arm, rolling his neck in a circle, tipping it forward and then back. I saw him glance around, making sure the hall was clear before he began walking forward. With each step he kicked one leg high, raising his hand over his head to touch his toes each time. He repeated this with the other leg, and I staggered backward, thankfully finding the wall before I collapsed. I slid down on useless legs until I was sitting on my ass. Holy fucking _hell_.

He reached the end of the hall and turned back, starting a slow, deliberate jog, his head bent. He lifted it after a few feet, checking to make sure he wasn't about to run into anybody, and his eyes locked with mine. They widened in surprise and he jogged over to me, pulling the buds out of his ears.

"Bella! What are you doing down here? Why are you sitting on the floor?" He held out his hand and helped me to my feet. He was breathing a little heavily from his exertions, and as I stood up I could see the veins and muscles standing out in prominent relief through the thin material of his pants and shirt. I gulped, swaying a little, and pressed my palm to his ridged abdomen.

He jerked away in shock, his eyes going wide on mine before darting around guiltily. "Bella!" he hissed, grabbing my hand.

"Uh…" I stared at where my hand had been. "Um…"

He laughed, leaning into me slightly. "Fucking hell, Bella, you're going to give me a hard on, and you have no idea how bad that sucks when you're wearing a jock. Not to mention I'd never hear the end of it from the guys."

His words registered, and I valiantly tried to shake off the haze of my Edward-induced lust. But…mmm…_hard on_… "Oh! Um, your mom forgot to give you your mouthpiece, so I brought it down for you."

"Okay…thanks?" He stood there, giving me a quizzical look, and I realized I was staring below his waist again. "Bella?"

"What?" I lifted my gaze to his with a dazed smile, and saw the amusement on his features.

"Do you have the mouthpiece?"

"Oh! Crap!" I smacked my forehead, and reached into the pocket of my jacket to hand it to him.

He took it from me with an arched brow and dubious frown, but then shook his head with a chuckle. "Thanks for bringing it to me. I would have felt weird without my usual stuff tonight."

"I thought so. Well…" I gave him one last, lingering glance from head to toe. "Good luck."

"Mmm," he hummed, dipping his head for a too brief kiss. "Thanks again." He pressed his forehead to mine, squeezing my hand, before pushing away from me determinedly. "Gotta go dress."

"Knock 'em dead." I walked away, but couldn't resist one last look over my shoulder at that round, firm ass accentuated by his Spidey-tights.

Edward rocked the house that night. He was like a possessed man out on the ice, playing with consummate skill and showing his immense talent and intelligence for the game. I had never seen him skate better – effortlessly, gracefully, powerfully – simply overshadowing the other players on the ice. He chased down one of the opposing wingers, not only catching him but moving ahead by a couple of strides. It gave him enough room to shove the other player into the boards and then turn a one-eighty in front of him, sweeping the puck away and to one of his teammates. We all stood and cheered at the play.

He was merciless with his checking, using the boards, the corners, even a couple of resounding crashes on the open ice that left the other player flat out on their back and getting up slowly to make their way groggily off the ice. No one got past him. Late in the second period, he was in his defensive position in front of the net, scrapping with the other team's center, pushing, shoving, and slashing where the ref couldn't see. The other player cross-checked him in the lower back a couple of times, and Edward just pushed him away until one hit caught him up around his shoulders. It knocked him forward and he retaliated by swinging his elbow back viciously just as the puck came directly at him, along with the referee's attention. The whistle blew, the arm went up, and he went to the penalty box, arguing and yelling all the way – two minutes for elbowing.

He sat scowling in the box, leaning forward squirting water from a bottle over his head and face. From where I sat almost directly across from him I could see his eyes following the action on the ice with a singular intensity that was echoed in his body as the seconds counted down to the end of his penalty. The door finally opened, and he burst out onto the ice just as the puck went sliding past him. He caught it dead center in the curved blade of his stick and went charging along the boards. He slid to a stop and swung, sending the puck rocketing through the defensemen, past the goalie, and into the net.

Everyone in the stands stood, yelling and cheering, as he went to one knee and pumped his fist along his side. Esme and I hugged each other, jumping up and down, laughing and grinning like idiots.

"It was the mouthpiece!" she shouted, giving me a high-five.

"Totally the mouthpiece!" I agreed, laughing. Dr. Cullen just shook his head at us in amusement.

The scouts from Dartmouth sat by themselves for the first period and most of the second, but came over to where we were sitting to talk with the Cullens before the third period started. Both seemed extremely impressed by what they had seen. They wanted to take us all out for dinner after the game and talk with Edward. His mom and dad decided that Dr. Cullen would go with Edward to dinner, and the scouts would drop them off at the house after they were finished. Esme would take me home. I felt terrible; I didn't want to prevent her from going along and being part of the important conversation.

"We'll get the details later," she told me when I expressed my hesitation. "Sometimes it's better to let the boys talk on their own, you know?" She smiled down at me. "This is just chit-chat and feeling each other out tonight. I probably wouldn't go even if you weren't here, Bella. It's perfectly okay. We went through the same thing with Emmett. I'll be there when they get serious."

I met Edward down by the locker rooms after the game. Esme and Carlisle stood talking to the two recruiters while we said good-bye for the evening.

He frowned when he heard I wasn't going to go with them to dinner. "I'd like you to be there," he said.

"No, you go talk, do what you need to do," I told him, giving him a smile. "Dazzle 'em, and tell me all about it tomorrow, okay?"

He pulled me to him and kissed my forehead. "Okay." He still frowned down at me, pushing a stray lock of hair behind my ears. His features cleared after a moment. "I'll call you tonight if I don't get in too late, but for sure tomorrow. I've got a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" I repeated suspiciously.

"Yep." He grinned and stepped away from me. "Dress comfortably. I'll be at your house to pick you up later tomorrow afternoon. "

"Dress comfortably? Where are we going?"

"That's the surprise." He kissed me one last time, and I scowled at him as we walked over to his parents and the Dartmouth scouts. "I love you. I'll talk to you later."

I gave his hand one last squeeze. "I love you."

**-0-**

When I woke up the next morning, there was a text on my phone from Edward.

_B –_

_B there at 5. Dress comfy. Luv u_

_-E_

I hated surprises**. **Dress comfy? What did that mean?

It ended up being unusually nice outside; the sun was actually out all afternoon. I spent the day dying to know what the scouts had said and wanting to see him. I cleaned and read and generally puttered around the house until it was time to get ready_. Dress comfy_. I found myself scowling into my closet. I put on a pair of jeans and a soft T-shirt with a scooped neckline, tied my Chucks, and went downstairs to wait. I pulled the curtains back to see the empty driveway, and glanced at the clock. It was only a couple of minutes before five o'clock. I shrugged, and tidied the already clean room.

I looked out the window again, and this time he was there. He got out of the Volvo and I froze, incapable of doing anything but staring. Even after all this time the sight of Edward Cullen could make my heart stop in my chest. He had on dark, form-fitting jeans with a wide belt and a sharp silver buckle, boots, and a snug cotton T-shirt covered by a loose, button-up shirt. His Ray-Bans were set cockily on his face, that half-smile twisting his lips, his hair disheveled and pushed back from his smooth forehead. He was gorgeous. Heart-stopping. Adonis. Mine.

I ran to the door and pulled it open, not able to wait another second to see him. He stopped on the top step, smirking at me, and I threw myself at him. He caught me with a laugh that was quickly smothered as I pressed my mouth to his, sweeping my tongue along his lip and sucking it into my mouth. I wrapped my legs around his hips as he juggled me with a muffled sound of surprise. I felt myself being shoved up against the side of the house on the small porch, and absorbed the impact with a grunt. I tipped my head to allow my tongue to follow his back into his mouth. He tasted spectacular.

"Hi," I gasped when he finally pulled his head back. I could see my tousled reflection in the lenses of his glasses. _Gah._

He laughed. "Well, hello there yourself."

I grinned, lowering my legs from around his waist and sliding down along his hard body. He groaned, pressing a quick kiss to my mouth. "I missed you," I said.

He pressed his hips into mine with a smile before taking a step back. "Yeah, it's been a whole twenty hours or so."

"What?" I pouted, pretending hurt. "You didn't miss me?"

He put his hands on my waist, under my shirt, pressed his body along the length of mine. I was crushed between him and the house. "Every hour," he breathed, nuzzling my jaw and licking my lower lip. "Every minute." His tongue lapped behind my teeth, soft, hot, and wet. "Every second." He fisted his hand in my hair and thrust deep into my mouth.

"Gug," I articulated smartly, limp in his arms. If he hadn't been holding me between his body and the side of the house I would be a puddle on the ground. "Uhm." I touched his full lower lip with my finger. "Kryptonite, I tell ya."

He threw his head back and laughed. "C'mon, Lois. I got us a picnic planned."

"Great." I rolled my eyes, gathering my will and pulling out of his arms. "That's my surprise? Dirt. Ants. Things that make you itch."

I locked the door with the key hidden under the eave and felt him come up close behind me, pulling my hair to one side, exposing my neck.

"You'll like it, I promise," he murmured and sucked on the skin at the juncture of my shoulder and neck. Goosebumps erupted all over my body as my nipples tightened painfully.

"Urgh." I shivered, and he chuckled again. I scowled at the sound. He'd reduced me to gasping and grunting.

"You just think you're all that, don't you?" I teased as he walked me to the car.

"What can I say?" His smirk was smug and so very cocky. "You just bring it out in me. It's your fault, really."

It took all of my meager control not to drop his pants right there in my front yard and suck him down my throat. Only the fact that old Mrs. Kapinsky across the street would rat me out to Charlie stopped me from doing it. It would be worth it for the look on his face – he wouldn't be so smug then, would he? I gave a superior sniff, lifting my chin and swept into the car.

He waited until I was seated before he shut the door behind me.I watched unabashedly as he walked around the hood to the driver's side and leered at me, sliding the Ray-Bans halfway down his regal nose and winking through the windshield. I shook my head at his audacity, but I was achy and slick between my thighs. Jesus, he was something, the smug bastard.

He slid into his seat, turning the key in the ignition and grinning at me. He raised one brow over the frames of the sunglasses. I yawned exaggeratedly in pretend boredom, patting my mouth with my hand, and he laughed.

"Boring you, am I?" he asked, reaching over and running his fingers up the inside of my thigh.

I tilted my head down onto my shoulder and gave a polite snore. He just smiled, turning his attention to the road. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the hand that wasn't on the wheel rise up to run languidly across his chest. I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. The hand slid across his pecs and slowly down his stomach. I licked my lips. He rubbed his belly lazily, back and forth, from one hip to the other. I had turned in my seat to face him now. His face was perfectly bland as his hand lowered to slowly run along the hard bulge in his lap, pausing to give a firm squeeze.

"All right!" I yelled. "Uncle! Christ!"

"Uncle Christ?" He tipped his head toward me. "That's a new one."

"You suck." I flopped back in my seat, a reluctant smile tugging at my lips.

"Well, _you_ could, if you'd like. I'm up for it – as you can see."

"You wish!"

"Yeah, I do," he muttered, lifting his hips slightly to readjust himself.

I licked my lips again.

"Cut it out," he growled.

"It's your fault, really." I mimicked his earlier words.

"Cockblocker."

"Tease."

We grinned at each other and rode in companionable silence. His hand lifted to rest on the center console, and I twined my fingers in his. Holy hell I loved this boy.

After we had been driving for a while, he slowed for a mostly hidden logging road that cut through the thick growth of trees. The Volvo bumped gently along until he pulled off to one side and parked. He hit the button to open the trunk and turned off the ignition, removing the keys and tossing them in one hand.

"Where the hell are we?" I asked, looking warily around at the tall, seemingly impenetrable trees.

"C'mon, Nature Girl. Picnic time."

I rolled my eyes but got out of the car. It was pleasantly warm even under the canopy of trees, and I walked to the back of the car where he was rummaging through the trunk. He sifted through some hockey equipment, setting aside his practice helmet and struggling with a couple of his extra sticks before pulling out a large backpack. He shouldered the strap, tossing me a thick blanket as he pocketed the keys and took my hand.

"Ready?"

"After you, fearless leader."

It was his turn to roll his eyes as he pulled me along the overgrown path. I stumbled a couple of times, as usual, and he accommodatingly slowed our pace. He walked slightly ahead of me, pushing aside branches and lifting me over rocks.

"Were you ever a Boy Scout?" I wondered, imagining him in one of the uniform shirts covered with every patch known to Scoutdom and then some, his cute, knobby, little-boy knees sticking out of brown shorts and a kerchief tied around his neck.

He snorted. "Briefly."

"Briefly?" I asked, curious, slapping at a bush that was trying to do me bodily harm. "Why briefly?"

"They said I was too bossy," he admitted, forging ahead of me.

"You?" I said in mock surprise. "Say it ain't so."

"Smartass," he replied. "What did they know, anyway?"

"Quite a bit, as it turns out," I muttered.

"What?" he cupped a hand exaggeratedly over his ear.

"Do you subscribe to their motto, at least?"

"What, 'Be Prepared'?" He glanced quizzically over his shoulder at me. "Why?"

I didn't answer right away, trying to keep up without falling on my head and panting with the effort. "Just wondering if you had any condoms in that suitcase you're carrying."

He came to an abrupt halt, turning to look at me with wide eyes. "Why, Isabella Swan! Did you just make an inappropriate sexual comment?"

"Shut up," I wheezed. He gave me a wicked grin and walked ahead of me, following a path I could barely see. Damn him. I bet his heart rate wasn't even accelerated.

"What in the world would we need condoms for?" his disembodied voice floated back from somewhere up ahead of me, dripping with disapproval. "This is a _picnic_, Bella."

"Picnic," I snorted to myself. "Shit. I better be getting some sex out of this!" I called. "Good sex, too! Really good sex!"

"Nag, nag, nag." He popped up right in front of me, and I staggered to a stop, clutching my chest. I probably would have embarrassed myself with a shriek if my lungs weren't hoarding every molecule of air. "C'mon, slowpoke."

"You're a dead man, Edward Cullen," I muttered darkly. I'd have to catch him first and he was a quick one, but I had plans. "Ack!"

He took the blanket and grabbed my hand, pulling me forward. I tripped over my feet and almost did a face plant in the forest, but he pulled me tightly to his side, supporting me. I scowled, ready to make another sarcastic comment, but my eyes widened at the sight in front of me.

Sunlight filled the small clearing. The green carpet of grass was spread with a wild riot of color – whites, blues, purples, oranges, yellows, reds. Wildflowers had sprung up in an insane, merry display all over the meadow. I tore my eyes away to stare at him in amazement.

He shrugged, grinning down at me. I let my eyes wander back over the dazzling scene in front of us before returning to the one by my side. "Holy wow. It's beautiful, Edward."

He leaned down and kissed me gently. I sighed, rubbing his nose with mine and pressing our foreheads together after we broke apart. "Thank you for bringing me. How did you ever find this place?"

"Emmett and I came across it years ago when we were in our hiking phase. I still come out on occasion. It's a quiet place to think, to get away." He did his one-shoulder shrug, smiling as he stepped back to spread the blanket in the dappled shade.

I walked a few steps out into the sunshine before turning my face up to the warm rays. After a few minutes I felt him come up behind me, stopping inches away. I smiled, enjoying the feeling of bright, warm sunshine as it soaked into my skin, happy to be here with him. His hand brushed along my hair as he stepped closer, his body touching mine from head to foot. I sighed, feeling safe and content. I leaned back to increase the contact between us.

"Love you," he murmured, his arms finally coming around me.

I turned, eyes still closed, wrapping my arms around his neck and keeping my head tilted up for his kiss. His lips felt slightly cool for once on my sun-warmed skin until he pulled me close, up off my feet and took me deep. His head tilted so his tongue could plunge, and I fisted my hands in his hair. He groaned in appreciation, his tongue stroking in a blatant, sexual rhythm, ravenous and restless against mine. We needed air, eventually, but he still held me up against him, my feet dangling uselessly. We panted, and he continued to press soft, wet kisses to my mouth.

I pressed my hips to his, and one of his hands slid down to cup my ass. He stroked in time to his kisses before his fingers slid around my hip. They pressed against the seam of my jeans, right between my legs and I gasped, throwing my head back. _Yessss_…

His stomach rumbled. Loudly. My head snapped up to stare at him, and we both grinned at each other.

"Sorry," he said, lowering me back to the ground. His hands lingered, the smile fading only slightly. "This is one of those times I wish I could be in two places at once. Food," his head tipped toward the blanket, "and here with you, in the sun. Bella." His hand went to my cheek and he met my gaze, his mouth still curved slightly but his eyes were steady on mine. "I want to strip every stitch of clothing off of you and fall to my knees at your feet. I want to worship you in the sunshine, right here, right now. I want to mark you. I want to be so far, so deep inside you, I'll carry the feeling with me forever." He kissed my forehead gently, in contrast with the force of his words, and I shivered. He smiled ruefully down at me. "I want you, Bella. All of you, all the time. I don't want to scare you or anything, but that's how I feel."

I bit my lip and felt a throbbing deep between my legs. "I'm not scared of you, Edward."

He shook his head slowly. "You're going to wish you hadn't said that, after I get done with you."

"I'm just scared you may have forgotten those condoms. Bunches of them."

"I don't think it would matter right now, even if I did. I'm going to have you anyway." He took my hand and stepped back. "But I'm going to eat first. Care to join me?"

Eat…Huh? "Right." I stared at his wet, shiny mouth. "Food. Uh-huh."

He laughed, flicking at my nose. "I did go to a lot of trouble for this, you know. The least you could do is pretend to appreciate it." He led me by the hand, backing toward the blanket he had spread.

I was amazed that my legs worked. I followed him and sank down, legs crossed, as far from him as I could get and still remain on the soft fabric. I swear, if he touched me again, even just brushed up against me, I was going to come. He had me that turned on, damn him. His kisses, his touches, his words, his ability to tease me with his freaking fantastic wit even when he was seriously aroused – I had nothing. I was a quivering mess and he owned me right now. I stared at his fingers as he pulled container after container out of the backpack. There was fruit cut into interesting shapes, cheese, crackers, grapes, grilled chicken with some seasoning that smelled delicious, bottles of sparkling flavored water, regular water, and brownies – oh, chocolate. If I couldn't have him, that looked like a fairly good substitute.

"Gimme." I grabbed the container out of his hands, careful not to touch him. I was still riding high.

I opened the lid and sniffed appreciatively. I grabbed one gooey square of goodness, the light, rich frosting melting in my mouth. I closed my eyes in bliss, the clenching between my thighs actually relaxing. "Mmmm," I moaned, rolling my head back and savoring the rich taste. "No way you made these."

It was silent, even his rustling through the pack had stopped. I opened my eyes to see him staring at me, slack-jawed.

"What?"

"That's…" he swallowed. "Kinda hot."

I smirked, popping another piece of brownie in my mouth, slowly licking the frosting off my finger. He twitched. Hah – see how he liked it. "Ohh, mmmm," I moaned again, staring directly into his green eyes.

"Evil," he whispered, and then gave a quick, sharp shake of his head. "I did too make those. Jeez."

I narrowed my eyes, my mouth full of melting, rich chocolate. "Did not."

"Did so." He held my stare for a few seconds then chuckled. "Well, my mom may have frosted them, but I made the brownies!"

"Box or from scratch?" I asked, and then held up my hand when he opened his mouth to speak. "No, it doesn't matter. They're delicious, Edward."

He looked pleased as he speared some chicken and cheese. "I cut the fruit, too." That explained the weird shapes, but it looked good. I chanced leaning forward and scooping some out on the paper plate he offered me – the chocolate had gone a long way in helping me get my equilibrium back. He scarfed down chicken and cheese and crackers, and I felt bad as he was apparently really hungry. My guilt only lasted for a few seconds, though. He had been merciless this afternoon stalking me. But the food was delicious, the scenery amazing, and he and I were here, together, alone. Just the two of us. It was perfect. I sighed in contentment.

"Happy?" he asked, wiping his face with a napkin.

"Yes. Thank you, Edward. Really. This is nice."

He smiled his happy smile at me, and I sighed. I rested my chin on my hand and just stared at him. It was one of my favorite things to do, and I was allowed.

"Sure you don't want any chicken? It's really good." He arched a brow as his fork hovered over the last couple of slices. He'd plowed through almost the entire container. I leaned over and he took the hint, spearing a strip and holding it out to me. I took a bite, swallowed, and ate the rest off of his fork.

"Good." I nodded, sitting back. "But you go ahead and finish it. I'm having another brownie."

He shrugged and polished off the last of the meat. He picked up the fruit and started eating right out of the container.

"So, you never did get a chance to tell me what the scouts said last night," I reminded him.

He nodded his head, his hair falling into his eyes as he looked down at the food, but he didn't bother to push it back like he usually did. "Yeah, it went well." He paused. "It went really well." He looked up, setting the container down and capturing my full attention as he met my gaze.

"You know they were from Dartmouth, right?" he asked, and I nodded, putting the brownies down. "Well, they liked what they saw last night. The one guy has been out to see me play before, but getting a goal and two assists last night really helped my chances. I'm pretty sure – Dad is, too – that they'll make me an offer. And Dartmouth is the one I've really been hoping for."

Something like dread turned the brownie in my throat to sawdust. I had to swallow a couple of times, turning this information over frantically in my head. I stalled, taking a long drink of the sparkling water. He watched me closely.

"That's good then, right?" I finally said. "Um, so where is Dartmouth again, exactly?"

"New Hampshire." He smiled his crooked grin as I choked, and he thumped me helpfully on the back. He knew my stalling tactics all too well.

"New Hampshire, huh." I grabbed a napkin and wiped my mouth. "Huh. That's…a long way away."

"It is," he agreed. He watched me, that stupid smile lingering on his mouth. "You know, I hear they have a great literature program."

I stared at him in shock. Was he joking? "Dartmouth? Edward, seriously?"

"Seriously." He slid closer and touched my cheek. "What's so unbelievable about that?"

"Dartmouth…I can't…I couldn't…Tuition! Grades! Getting in! Tuition!"

"They have scholarships." His hand cupped my cheek, and I unconsciously leaned into him. "And your grades are plenty good enough. You wouldn't have any trouble getting accepted. I've got all kinds of college money set aside. If they offer me a scholarship, which they probably will, it'll just be sitting around doing nothing."

I recoiled. "Edward, I am _not_ taking any money from you, no matter how stinking rich you are." That kind of pissed me off a little. Okay, a lot.

"Just think about it, Bella. Not the money," he cut me off as I opened my mouth to yell. "But consider Dartmouth. We could go together. We could rent a place, the two of us. That would save a lot on housing and food and everything. We could drive the Volvo out there. It's really good in the snow."

He'd snuck closer while I sat there, stunned. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his chest. I realized he had given this quite a bit of thought. Edward and I sharing a house, living together…I didn't know whether to run screaming or embrace it with my entire being. The embracing part was swiftly beating down the running part, though. I really did hate running. "Only when chased" was my motto, and Edward had already caught me.

"Wow. I don't know, Edward. I just…don't know. I need to think about it, process it all."

"Okay," he agreed easily. "We have some time. I know it will be hard for you to leave Charlie, but I know if we're together it will be fine. I'm going to ask you to marry me, of course, but there's time for that, too."

I nodded. Marry me. He was going to ask me to marry him. Of course. Of course he was. Of course he was _insane_! "What the hell, Edward," I said conversationally.

I felt his smile in my hair. "Not right now, because that would be crazy." _Crazy. Sure_. "We're too young, and it's too soon. But I will. Someday. Just so you know. Just so you know how I feel. I love you, Isabella Swan, and I plan on doing everything I can to keep you forever."

I turned in his arms, taking his seraphic face between my palms. "I'm in love with a crazy person. God help me," I whispered. I kissed him softly, my lips clinging to his tenderly. "It's never boring with you, is it? You make me nuts, Edward Cullen."

"Good. Same goes." His hands covered mine on his face. "I love you."

"I love you, crazy person."

He smiled, stroking down my arms. The feel of his rough palms on my bare skin started me shivering. His mouth hovered over mine, his green eyes intense as they held my gaze. "Will you let me show you, Bella? Will you let me love you?"

* * *

**Next chapter, Edward wants to give Bella something to think about...**

**"You'll remember this, here, right now, and you'll know how much I love you."**

**A/N: I have a link to a short video that gave me some more inspiration for the warm up scene with E and B before she gave him his mouthpiece. And compression pants! I had that scene written and then a friend sent me this...and I thought...hmmm...**

**Take out the spaces around the dots (and the one between the double slashes)**

**http:/ /www . youtube . com/watch?v=H_wAYLKLQY0**


	29. Chapter 28: Goal

**Stephenie Meyer, the usual. Me, the rest.**

**If you've never worked with a truly awesome beta, you don't know what you're missing. I'm lucky enough to have two - Sarahsumbrella and silentnc. Thank you, Sarasu. I'll not soon forget Pantyward...**

**Lemon in this chappie..actually, the chappie *is* a lemon. If it's not your thing, you can read the first and last couple of paragraphs and still get the idea.**

* * *

**CHAPTER 28: Goal**

I stared at him as we sat on the blanket, perplexed at the words and the intensity in his voice. "I know you love me, Edward, I really do. You don't need to prove it." I wondered what I'd done to make him doubt how I felt about him. I thought back over my reaction about Dartmouth…and marriage. "I'm sorry. You just took me by surprise, that's all. I -"

He put his fingertips on my mouth, halting my words, locking his ardent green eyes on mine. "Shh. I know you, mia Bella. I know I've completely freaked you out, and you're going to go home later and obsess and worry and tear yourself up over everything I've said. I'm pretty sure you'll come to see my point, eventually, but I'm going to save you some steps. I'm going to make love to you, give you something to think about and remember when you're not with me. I want to take away as much of that worry as I can, so when you're home beating yourself up and fretting your way through this, you won't have to question or have any concerns about how I feel. You'll remember this, here, right now, and you'll know how much I love you."

His hand moved slowly down my chin to my neck and traced lightly over my collarbone, his eyes still locked on mine. I couldn't have looked away for the world. His eyes betrayed the depth of his emotion, and if I'd ever doubted anything, it wasn't Edward Cullen at this moment. He leaned forward, not breaking the connection of our gaze until his face was so close to mine my eyes crossed. I jumped slightly as I felt his mouth on my neck rather than where I expected it on my lips. His breath was warm as it flowed across my skin.

"_Ti amo, mia dolce Bella_," he murmured. I moaned as he opened his damp mouth on my throat and pressed his teeth deliberately into my flesh, taking a hard, sucking bite.

Goosebumps shivered across my skin from the sensation. My head fell back as he ran his open, wet mouth down my throat and along my collarbone, following the path his fingers had taken, teeth nipping and tongue lapping in their wake. His hands stroked my shoulders over my T-shirt, slipping down to trace the full outer curves of my breasts. My hands went instinctively to the hem of my shirt to yank it off, but his moved swiftly to manacle my wrists.

"No." His tongue swirled in the small hollow at the base of my throat. "Don't move." He placed my hands on my knees, pressing firmly to let me know to keep them there. "Stay still, do you understand?" His mouth moved down my chest, following the bare skin the wide neck of my shirt exposed. "Bella?"

He wanted me to speak? My mouth opened but no sound emerged. His head stilled, lifting slightly away from between my breasts, waiting. Oh, God.

"Y-y-yes," I stammered.

"Good," he said in approval, lifting his hands from my wrists.

He ran his palms up my thighs to my hips, pausing briefly before moving up either side of my waist, still over my shirt. He cupped the full weight of my breasts in his palms, lifting and pressing them together. Placing his lips on the cleavage he created, he ran his tongue along the dark crease. I lifted my head to look at the back of his tousled bronze hair bent over me, the breath shuddering out of my lungs as his mouth came so close to where I needed it so badly. His chin dragged the material of my shirt down to expose the lacey top of my bra covering my right breast and I felt the soft press of his lips there. I held my breath, on the knife edge of anticipation as the tip of his tongue licked just under the edge. I wanted – I needed – his hot mouth on my sensitive nipples. I strained toward him, arching my back, twisting slightly and stretching, trying to force my breast into his mouth.

"Be still," his velvet voice admonished, and I groaned. His hands covered my breast, his palms pressing firmly, warmly against my nipples. It was a small relief, but nowhere near what I craved.

I dug my fingers into my knees to stop myself from knocking him on his back and attacking him. I took a deep breath to steady myself, leaning slowly into his hands that were still warm on my breasts. I froze, waiting for a rebuke that did not come. He didn't move, and I opened my eyes to see him looking at me with a strange, tender expression. He lifted one hand to curve around my neck, cupping the back of my head and exerting slight pressure to bring my face to his. His hand fisted my hair at the nape of my neck at the same time he crushed his mouth to mine. I couldn't help it. I whimpered. I _loved_ it when he did that.

He tasted fresh and sweet from the fruit. His tongue plunged, rubbing mine and slicking across the roof of my mouth. I was immersed in the flavor that was all Edward – tangy, warm, wet, and male. My hands moved unconsciously from my knees to fist in his shirt as I brought myself closer. One of his arms slid around my waist to press me to him, the other tightened in my hair as he tilted his head to take me even deeper. My hands slid up to his neck, and when he didn't protest I slid them into his wild locks to grab two big handfuls. I rose up on my knees to push harder against him, and he leaned back slightly before gentling his ravenous mouth to quick flicks and easy glides.

"Edward," I whimpered as I felt him pulling away again, trying to keep his mouth on mine by holding on to his head.

He reached one hand back to loosen my grip on his hair, and the other stayed around my waist. When my hands released their grasp at his urging, he brought his other arm around me to join the first, rising up on his own knees to loom over my body. He leaned forward, pushing me back, supporting me with his arms until I was lying on the blanket. He straightened on his knees between mine, tall and wild-haired as he stared down at me. I stretched languidly, looking into his eyes as I raised my arms over my head teasingly. He smiled, wicked and knowing, shrugging out of his button-down shirt. It left him in a snug grey jersey knit T-shirt and jeans, looking long, lean, and wide-shouldered. He reached down to adjust himself, and a burst of wet exploded between my legs.

He smiled – how did he _know_? – bending slightly to take the bottom edge of my T-shirt in his hands. I stretched again as he lifted and tugged it from underneath me, trying to surreptitiously rub against him as he pulled it over my head and off my arms. He was braced on one hand over me as he tossed it aside, pressing his other gently against my wrists where they were lifted above my head.

"Stay. Just like that," he commanded and leaned back on his heels, his eyes taking in my half-exposed form. The pale skin of my upper body was broken only by the dark blue lace of my bra, my breasts slightly stretched and full from the position of my arms over my head. I saw heat flare in those beautiful green eyes, and I shifted slightly from side to side, both to tease and because I simply couldn't hold still. I was burning, flames licking at my body as his eyes roved over me.

"So beautiful," he whispered, reaching out to touch my stomach. My muscles trembled and tightened in response, my hips lifting involuntarily. I moaned deep in my throat. "Bella. So beautiful."

He leaned forward again, bringing his knee firmly against the juncture of my thighs. I pressed myself against him with a glad cry, twisting and rubbing on his leg. His hand went to the front clasp of my bra and spread it open – _finally!_ I closed my eyes and arched up toward him, fisting my hands in an effort not to grab and clutch him to me. His fingertips were as light and fluttering as butterfly wings as they traced down the center of my chest, up and down, around and around the soft skin of my aching breasts. The tension inside me built and grew and expanded. I squeezed my eyes shut, tossing my head at the exquisite, painful, frustrating sensation. I bit my lip, my body trembling, my arms going numb over my head as I lifted my chest toward him again, seeking and begging in my actions.

The scorching heat of his mouth on my left nipple was sudden, shocking, and lit me up like the Fourth of July. He sucked my breast into the heat of his mouth, pulling hard and rubbing his rough, soft tongue firmly around the nipple. His teeth scraped and bit down, and I cried out in delight at the sharp, exquisite sensation. He moved his mouth to my other breast, and I saw him smiling in satisfaction as I opened my eyes. I gasped and panted, arching my upper body toward him so that I stared unseeingly at the canopy of leaves over us as he continued to nip and suck and tongue my breast.

He sat back up despite my wordless protest, pulling the shirt over his head. I stared, my eyes greedily absorbing the perfection of his bare chest. I took in the prominent, hard pectorals, the dark bronze hair spreading across them, the amazing eight pack and ridge of muscle arrowing down from his hipbones to disappear into the low-riding waist of his jeans. My breath hitched as his hands undid the silver buckle of the belt slung on his hips. He pulled it open and left it dangling in the belt loops, unfastening the top two buttons of his jeans before leaning back over me. He placed his hands on the ground on either side of my head, bracing his weight on his arms and slowly lowering his body over mine. His chest brushed the tips of my breasts and he paused, moving slightly to rub the rough hair over my very sensitive nipples. I made a noise in the back of my throat and pushed up to increase the friction. I could hear his breathing accelerate as he continued to lower himself until his hips were seated between my thighs and our bare stomachs rubbed against each other. I threw my head back and then tossed it from side to side, overwhelmed and completely enthralled by the feel of that luscious body on mine.

"Yessss," I hissed, gripping his concrete shoulders, digging my fingers into the hard flesh. I ran them down to caress his biceps as they flexed with his weight, cupping the hard bulges in my palm and reveling in the way they slid and bunched under his skin. I lifted up, pressing my mouth to the side of his neck, licking and biting my way across the swell of his deltoid to the firm curve of his shoulder. He turned his head and met my mouth, our tongues tangling and wild before he slid down, trailing his soft lips and the tip of his tongue across my skin.

He…_worshipped_ me with his hands and his mouth. He loved my breasts, my stomach, my arms and hands and fingers. Nothing escaped his slow, thorough, focused attention. I was a quivering mess as he bit down on the bottom of my ribcage. I shuddered and tightened my stomach in a vain attempt to ease the tension in my body. I let out a cry as his teeth firmly pressed into my lowest rib, feeling the glory of his smile against my skin. His hands slid down to the top of my jeans, my hips undulating beneath his sure touch as he undid the button and zipper. He leaned to one side and then the other as he slid them down, hands lingering to trail along the firm muscles of my legs. I kicked them and my shoes off with frantic haste. I wrapped my feet around his jean-covered calves in desperation, tilting my pelvis so that I had better contact. The metal of his dangling belt buckle dug into my bare stomach as I pushed up into him. I could feel his erection as he thrust it against me, and it felt marvelous.

"Yes, Edward, please," I breathed, my hands scrabbling across his shoulders. I was blind with lust. I could smell him, feel him, taste his lingering flavor on my tongue. I was steeped in him. I wanted him inside me, now. I felt thick, slick, and desperate between my legs. I thrust my hips up blindly, searching for him.

He inched lower, so that my thighs cradled his torso between them. He bit one hip bone and then the other, dragging his teeth across the prominent ridge. I moaned as I felt him slide down a little further, his chin trailing across my stomach, pausing to dip his tongue into my bellybutton and glide it down to the top of my panties. I held my breath in an agony of anticipation and waited. And waited. Finally his teeth nipped sharply at my most sensitive flesh, through lace and cotton. My hips jerked, bumping hard into his chin, but I barely felt it. He sat back up on his knees, and my eyes flew to his as I whimpered in protest. He gave me a lopsided smile, rubbing his jaw.

"Your fault," I said, completely unapologetic and still squirming. "Edward, please!"

He pulled my panties off and held them in his fist. The green of his eyes deepened as he stared at them. He slowly lifted his head to meet my gaze, and I sucked in a harsh breath in anticipation at the look of determination and desire on his face. He finally set the scrap of silk and lace aside, down by my feet, and ran his hands back up my legs. The slightly rough tips of his fingers caressed the tops of my feet, traced around my ankles, cupped the curve of my calf, tickled the backs of my knees. He gripped them suddenly, pushing insistently until I was spread wide before him. I could feel his nose trailing up the soft flesh of my inner thigh before he stopped, inhaling deeply as he approached my sex. I pounded my fists on the ground in desperation. He bit gently. I twitched and gasped – he was lethal with those teeth. One finger touched my slick outer lips, circling and spreading the heavy wetness he had caused. I could feel his warm breath and the cool air touching me intimately, tightening my skin, making my nerves jump and leap. His fingers circled and stroked, closer and closer, before finally pushing in, spreading and easing deep. I moaned, my hands fisting in the blanket, and then the singeing blaze of his mouth covered me. I shrieked.

"Shh," he soothed, pulling back slightly and blowing on me.

"_Yesyesyes_," I chanted, my hands going between my legs to yank on his hair. My head tossed frantically head back and forth. "Come back! More, again, please!"

His tongue lapped, sliding from where his fingers penetrated me up to where I ached and throbbed, twirling, pressing, flicking. He closed his lips and sucked gently. I cried out, arching up, digging my fingers into his scalp. His fingers pulled out with a soft, wet sound and he curved them over the flesh of my ass, holding me in place with an unyielding grip. The wet tips brushed along the crease before pressing in and running firmly from the base of my spine, tickling across sensitive, secret tissue to where I was wet and desperate for him. His fingers circled and dipped, and he plunged his tongue into me. I bucked against his hands, but he was without mercy. His mouth, tongue, lips and teeth drove me up, and up, and up some more. I was wild as he ate at me, lapped at me, loved me. I sobbed and arched and pushed against him, my body sweating and straining against his avid mouth. I could feel the tension coiling tighter, locking my muscles, and my breath hitched in, and in, and in again as I grabbed frantically for the elusive sensation. My vision went black behind my eyelids, a small pinprick of light glimmering in the middle of the endless dark field. Everything faded. There was only the relentless, soft stroke of his mouth and that spinning pulse of light. The breath froze in my chest as my entire being focused on that luminous point. I could feel my lungs trying to pull in air to no avail as the light behind my eyelids grew.

_Yesyesyes, pleasepleaseplease_, I begged in the depths of my mind. _Please don't stop. Please don't stop._ My lungs ached with the need to take in air, but every molecule in my body concentrated on bringing release closer. I wouldn't give up until I had it…coming, it was coming, coming closer…The light expanded and rushed toward me, screaming, covering me, burying me in the shock of color and radiance. I sucked in a huge gulp of air – _oh, God, finally_…The release and relief was so intense I could only moan, over and over, my body shaking and shuddering and blowing apart.

I was dimly aware of one last sucking kiss and lap of his tongue as he pulled away. I concentrated on the exquisite pleasure of clean, fresh air heaving in and out of my lungs and the convulsive aftershocks of that cataclysmic orgasm. I only barely perceived the metallic clink of his belt and the rustle of his jeans as he rid himself of them. I moaned in delight as he lowered his big body over mine, sticking our skin together and rubbing all over me.

"Bella," he murmured, stoking the damp, sweaty hair off my forehead. He placed a soft kiss to the exposed skin. "Bella, look at me."

A smile wavered across my lips as my eyelids fluttered. I took a couple more deep breaths, reveling in the ability and the lack of exquisite, tortuous tension in my body.

"Uh," I managed.

"Bella," he whispered. His lips were strangely urgent against mine. I was absolutely limp and rubbery with pleasure and satisfaction; my mind couldn't comprehend his intensity. He ran his fingers along my damp cheekbone, and the trembling in his fingertips brought my eyes open with a snap.

He was looking down at me tenderly, but tension hardened his handsome features. I became aware of him, hot and hard and bare against the sensitive flesh between my legs. I moaned, and he shuddered, closing his eyes and rocking against me. I was utterly shocked to feel an electric tingle of awareness rip through my senses. I thought I would be incapable of that for at least the next hundred years or so.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, staring down into my eyes. "I can't…are you ready, baby? I won't…" he shut his eyes and gritted his teeth, but held himself slightly away. "I won't, unless you're ready."

"Yes." I lifted my hips, feeling him between my legs. How in the world could I want him again, so soon after that devastating orgasm?

He pressed forward, watching my face the entire time. I knew he wanted to go slow, but I was so wet and slick he slipped right in, his full length sliding into me with no effort on his part. He threw his head back, hovering over my chest and sucking in a breath sharply between his teeth. It felt marvelous, his weight crushing me and the thick, hot fullness of him spreading my sensitive flesh.

"Oh, God," he moaned, dropping his head, his hair flopping down to tickle the skin of my chest. He flexed forward, and I ran my hand down the long, shuddering line of his naked back. "You feel so good inside after you come," he breathed. "Soft." He thrust gently, his eyes opening and staring dreamily into mine. "Wet. So warm. So right."

His hips moved languidly for a while, his hands curling under and over my shoulders to pull me gently into his thrusts. The rub and drag of him inside me was exquisite. It caused a rebuilding of tension I never thought I'd be willing to welcome so soon, but I embraced it with open, eager arms. I dug my nails into his sides as his strokes picked up in tempo and force, my soft inner flesh clinging to him in an amazing sensation, more intense than I ever remembered. I was sure my earlier, mind-shattering orgasm had something to do with the increased awareness and sensitivity. I moaned, arching yet again against him, the naked skin of his chest sliding along mine…_Oh!_

My eyes flew open, and I stared up into his green eyes, finding them focused on my face. "You didn't…you don't…ungh!" I grunted as he thrust particularly hard.

He kissed me, his mouth soft and thorough against mine. "I know."

"But -" I protested. "Condom. You didn't…"

"I know," he repeated, and kissed me again. He moaned as his hips began to move more forcefully. "Is that okay?"

"Oh, God," I whimpered. The intense feeling suddenly had greater significance. Thank God I'd kept up with my birth control shots."Holy hell, you feel _amazing_."

"Bella," he whispered, licking the rim of my ear, driving into me now. "Say it. Come on, baby, say it."

"What?" I asked. My head spun with devastating sensation and confusion as another orgasm hovered.

"Bella…" He bit down on my shoulder.

"Edward," I breathed, tightening my inner muscles around him.

"Yes," he hissed. "Again. Say it again."

"Edward!" My nails raked the smooth skin of his back, and he bucked into me. I arched helplessly against him as I came, and came, and came again.

He shouted, his entire body jerking in time with his release, his head buried against my shoulder. My orgasm intensified as I felt the hot pulse of his semen inside me for the first time ever. He collapsed his entire weight on top of me, shuddering and breathing heavily, his breath hot and rapid on my neck. I stroked him as my own breathing and heart rate slowed to normal, the pads of my fingers tracing the raised lines on his back from my nails. He exhaled heavily, sliding off to one side to pull me against his chest. I lay quietly, my eyes on his face, memorizing each dear line and feature. His brilliant green eyes flickered open to meet my gaze, and I smiled, tracing one of his heavy eyebrows.

"I love you, Edward Cullen," I said softly, seriously, and that sweet smile spread across his face, lighting him up.

"Thank you," he said simply, hugging me to him, and he was perfect.

We lay quietly together, listening to the gentle breeze whisper through the grass and trees, the birds chirping. The soft sigh of our breaths mingled with the other sounds, and I could not remember ever being so happy. I was warm where our bodies touched, but was rapidly cooling where I was exposed to the air. His fingers stroked my skin as they always did after we made love, as if he couldn't bear to not touch me. After a while he stirred, rubbing his large palms along my chilly flesh.

"You're getting cold," he murmured, sitting up.

"I don't want to move," I protested, but gave a little shiver as his warmth left me.

He pulled me up into a sitting position. I jumped a little as an unfamiliar rush of wetness trickled weirdly down my thighs.

"Oh…ugh." I clenched my legs together and tried to hide my startled reaction. How embarrassing.

"What?" he asked, reaching for our jeans and fumbling around for our underwear.

"Nothing." My face flamed as I shook my head, my hair falling down around my heated face.

"Bella, what?" He turned to face me, brushing my hair back over my shoulder.

I didn't say anything, and he frowned slightly, running his gaze over my body. He paused at my clenching thighs, and suddenly his face cleared in understanding. Jesus, how did he _do_ that? I swear, sometimes I thought he could read my mind. He touched my cheek and got to his knees to rummage in the backpack for a small cloth. He wet it with one of the bottles of water and turned back to me.

I held out my hand, my face still red, but he moved it out of my reach. I frowned at him in confusion as he placed his hand on my shoulder, gently pushing me down to the blanket. I struggled against him as I realized his intention, but he just arched a brow and pressed more insistently.

"Edward," I protested, leaning back on my elbows, my legs stretched out in front of me. "Don't. I can -"

"Shush," he admonished, moving my right knee aside and placing the cool, wet cloth between my legs. "Let me take care of you. Hush, Bella."

He wiped me thoroughly, rubbing the rough cloth gently over my tender flesh. I sighed in resignation and, I had to admit, pleasure. He removed the cloth and bent to place a soft, reverent kiss to my now clean skin.

"Thank you," I said shyly. He grinned lopsidedly at me, bending again to place a kiss, on my mouth this time.

He re-wet the cloth from the bottle, wrung it out over the grass, and quickly wiped himself. I fought my way up to my knees but he was finished and putting it in a plastic bag before I could say anything.

"Stand up," he said softly, holding my blue panties in his hand.

I braced myself on his strong, wide shoulders and stood wobbling over him. He lifted one foot and then the other, slipping the lacey material up the length of my legs and over my hips before tugging it into place. He did the same with my jeans, wrapping his arms around my waist when he was done buttoning and zipping, pressing his face into my stomach. I looked down, cradling his head tenderly in my arms and rocked gently. We stayed like that for a few seconds, comfortable, happy, and content.

After a while he sighed, tilting his head to smile up at me before he rose gracefully to his feet. He dressed quickly, handing me my bra and helping me back into my T-shirt, putting his hands under my hair and pulling it out from under the neckline. I knelt and began repacking the food, nesting containers and tucking it all neatly into place. He folded the blanket, stuffing it into the backpack now that there was enough room for it to fit. We took one last look at the bright spring colors of the meadow, slightly shadowed as the sun headed for the horizon.

He shouldered the pack, his arms sliding around me and bringing me back against his chest for one last embrace. I placed my hands over his at my waist and shut my eyes in bliss.

"I'll say yes, you know," I murmured, and he startled slightly in surprise. We were so in tune that I knew he realized what I was talking about. "Eventually. But I'll say no until you ask me exactly right."

"Then I'll have to be sure to get it right the first time," he said into my ear. His voice was deep, smooth velvet. "Eventually, that is."

I turned my head to smile at him. He took my hand, tugging me forward, and we headed to the trail leading back to the Volvo. I took one last look over my shoulder at the golden light filling our meadow before squeezing his hand and walking alongside the man I loved.

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**And...next chappie:**

**Dudley Do-Right to the rescue again.**


	30. Chapter 29: Bench Clearing Brawl

**Stephenie Meyer created and owns Twilight and characters. The rest is mine.**

**Sarahsumbrella and silentnc beta this story, and I wouldn't be here without them. Thanks to sarahsumbrella for additional hand-holding.**

**The Fandom Gives Back auctions start tonight at midnight (June 26) through July 2. I have two items up for bid - one is an outtake of your choice from Major Misconduct - any scene, missing scene, dreamed up scene, any POV, any charcter, future shot, past shot. You name it. The other is EPOV of Chapter 28 "Goal", and it's a Dutch auction, which means the first 100 bids of $10 gets a copy. Please visit the site for more details and take a look at all the offerings for this very worthy cause. **

**www . thefandomgivesback . com**

**Oh, and Bella is on birth control (CH 16). silentnc warned me some folks would worry about this, and I forgot to write in a mention last chapter.**

****PLEASE NOTE** This chapter contains violence. If you are sensitive to scenes and descriptions of violence, please do not proceed. PM me and I am more than happy to give a synopsis of the chapter.**

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**CHAPTER 29: Bench Clearing Brawl**

We headed back to Forks in a comfortable silence. Contentment was almost tangible between us, as real as the feel of his fingers intertwined with mine on the middle console. I stared at his chiseled profile with a happy grin, and he tilted his head toward me, taking his eyes off the road for a brief moment to return my sappy smile.

"Love you," he murmured, giving my fingers a squeeze and returned his attention to the road in the approaching dusk.

"Mm, love you more," I sighed, leaning my head back against the headrest as he drove down the familiar two-lane highway leading back home.

We came around a wide, looping curve and saw a car pulled over on the side of the road ahead of us. I glanced at him as he began decelerating with a slight frown, squinting, trying to see a little better in the rapidly fading light. As we got closer, I could see the hood was up on the sedan. A few seconds later, a pair of legs became apparent, attached to a feminine form leaning into the engine compartment. A long, thick shock of brilliant red hair stood out against the dark paint.

"Looks like she has trouble," I said, letting go of his hand and sitting up in my seat.

"Yeah," he agreed, glancing in the rearview mirror to make sure no one was behind us. We hadn't seen another car besides this one since we pulled onto the road. He slowed the Volvo to a stop on the shoulder behind the woman and her car. I rolled my eyes in amusement. Dudley Do-Right to the rescue again.

I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and placed it on my knee. "Should I call someone?"

He glanced at my phone. "I'm not sure you can get a signal out here. Let me see what's going on first."

"Okay." I noticed a small, snazzy little sports car parked just in front of the broken-down sedan, pulled a little farther off the road. It hadn't been apparent as we approached the larger car. "Someone else stopped," I pointed out, gesturing to the smaller vehicle.

"Yeah." He frowned, unbuckling his seatbelt. He pressed the button to open the trunk and turned off the engine. "Stay here, okay?"

I glanced at him sharply in apprehension. "It's probably nothing," he reassured me, opening his door and unfolding his tall frame. "But stay put, just the same."

I watched, a little nervous now, as he approached the woman. He stopped a few feet away, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. I saw her gesture and shrug her shoulders helplessly, motioning to the hood of the car. Edward didn't move any closer, but I could tell he was speaking to her. He'd turned the Volvo off and I couldn't roll down my power window, so I leaned over to turn the key in the ignition. My hand froze in mid-air as I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. I straightened in surprise and stared at the passenger side of the car in front of me. The shadow materialized into a human figure, one that was faintly familiar. I gasped and clutched at the armrest. James Lucard.

My fingers scrabbled at the power window button, instinctively wanting to shout a warning, but I hadn't turned on the ignition and it didn't budge. I saw Edward stiffen when he noticed Lucard walking toward him. The red-haired woman nervously backed away at something James said to her, turning to slam the hood down on the sedan. She moved quickly to the driver's side door and got into the vehicle. The engine fired right up, and my fingers clutched my cell phone as she drove away. It was a set-up, I realized with dread.

"Please, please, please," I chanted, hitting speed dial for Charlie's cell phone. "Pick up, pick up, pick up." I prayed there was enough of a signal for the call to go through, and that he would answer his phone. My heart stopped as I saw a gleam of something in James' hands. Edward stood still and tense, facing him. I couldn't hear anything, but I didn't have to. I knew it was bad.

"Bella?" Charlie's voice came thin and tinny through my cell. _Thank God_.

"Dad," I croaked, clutching the phone to my ear. "Dad, listen -"

"What's wrong, Bells? Where are you?"

"Listen! Dad, James Lucard is here. We're on County Road 110, just past the big tree with the lightening strike, just outside Forks. Dad, come quick, please, we're in trouble. Edward's out there and James has something in his hand. I'm scared, Dad, please…"

"Bella, where are _you_, exactly." His voice rose but remained even. It was his cop voice.

"I'm in the car. Dad, he tricked us, he had someone with him pretending -"

"Bella, listen to me very carefully. Stay in the car. Lock the doors, but stay in the car! I'm on my way. I'll have a couple of squad cars with me, and we'll be there as soon as we can. Do you understand? _Stay in the car_. Do you have the keys?"

"Y-yes." They were still in the ignition. My eyes did not leave Edward. His shoulders were rigid as he raised his hands up toward James. I could tell they were arguing about something. James stepped forward, closer to him, and I could see what he held in his hand. It was a thick black length of pipe. "Oh God, Dad, he's got a pipe!" My breath started wheezing harshly as I began to hyperventilate in panic.

"Bella!" He was shouting into the phone, and I could hear the roar of an engine and sirens in the background. "Get out of there! If the keys are in the car, get out of there right now!"

"What? No!" I shrieked in surprise. I couldn't just leave him out there by himself. How could Charlie even think such a thing? My gaze was glued to Edward, frantically darting back and forth between him and James. I screamed in shock as James swung the pipe like a bat. Edward twisted away in a quick, agile movement, but it happened so suddenly, so viciously, that he had no chance to defend himself. He was hit hard, low on his side.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion, just like in the movies, but I was caught in a real life nightmare. I threw my phone down and my hands scrambled at the door handle as I watched in utter horror. Edward clutched at his midsection, bent over at the waist, and James brought the pipe down on his head. A high-pitched keening sound escaped me as the breath sobbed in and out of my lungs. I didn't even stop to think as I jumped out of the car and ran back to the open trunk, grabbing the first thing I laid my hands on – one of Edward's hockey sticks. I saw, seemingly from a distance, my hands grasp the shaft, my vision sharp and focused even though it felt like the rest of me was wrapped in cotton. I couldn't hear anything but the blood roaring in my ears and the fast, trip-hammer beat of my heart.

I felt as if I was moving slowly, too slowly, as I went back around the front of the Volvo and across the asphalt to where James was kicking Edward's prone form, once, twice, his leg swinging back a third time, his back to me. My eyes marked the exact spot on his head where I would swing and hit, and swing I did. I hauled the hockey stick back over my right shoulder with both hands and brought it around with all of my might and weight behind it, grunting with the effort, my eyes never leaving the spot on his skull where I wanted to connect.

The shock of the impact numbed my fingers and shot up my arms. James staggered forward, dropping to his knees and slowly falling forward onto his face. I saw the lower, curved part of the hockey stick lying next to him, and dumbly stared at the remaining jagged, splintered portion still clutched in a death grip in my hands. I dropped it and watched it fall to the gravel on the side of the road. Suddenly, everything snapped back to normal speed.

"Edward!" It came out as a choked sob as I fell to my knees and grabbed his shoulder. I tried to roll him onto his back, but could only force his heavy, still body onto his side. There was only one thing going through my mind, playing over and over in an endless loop. _Oh, God, please. Let him be okay…Oh, God, please…let him be okay…_

He wasn't. There was blood, a lot of blood, coming from the back of his head, matting his bronze hair and beginning to pool underneath his cheek. I inhaled sharply, my breath shuddering in uneven, harsh gasps. I couldn't seem to expel the air from my lungs as I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth. The smell of blood was strong – warm, sharp, and metallic. I gagged, icy terror shooting up my spine. His eyes were closed and his head lolled to the side as he toppled onto his back.

"Edward!" My voice was now a thin wheeze as I took in his pale, still face. I stupidly shook his shoulder with one hand, wiping ineffectually at the blood on his cheek with the other. I had to get him to the hospital. They would help. They'd make him be okay. Everything would be fine; of course it would be…I just had to get him to the hospital.

I heard a groan and let out a cry of relief until I realized the sound wasn't coming from Edward. It came from James, lying a few feet away. Violent tremors racked my body as adrenaline was dumped into my system. I grabbed Edward under his arms, lifting his head and upper part of his body as far as I could off the ground. I tried to stop the uneven sobs tearing at my lungs to give me more air as I started to drag him back toward the Volvo. He was a good eight or nine inches taller than I was, and outweighed me by over ninety pounds, but I didn't have time to regret my lack of size and strength as I pulled his injured body back toward the relative safety of the car. There was no other option. It was up to me to get him to the car, away from James, and to the hospital as soon as possible. I had heard of people doing amazing things in traumatic situations, and with the strength born of pure, unadulterated terror I proved it true as I hauled him toward the Volvo.

"Edward, Edward…" I was weeping and gritting my teeth as the car came closer, inch by meager inch. I started my chant again. "Oh, God, please, let him be okay. Please let him be okay."

I almost dropped his shoulders as he let out a low moan. I couldn't catch my breath, the relief was so great. "I know, honey, I know. Help me out here, please. C'mon, you can do it, help me."

"Bella," he groaned, and I dropped to the ground, my inhuman strength gone for the moment. I cradled his head on my lap as I wept and gasped. "Bella?" He tried to sit up, propping himself on his elbows, but cried out and fell to his side, vomiting. He let out a tortured moan and I started sobbing again, clutching at his back. I had to get him out of here before James regained consciousness.

"James...? Get…go, Bella," he managed in a wispy, weak version of his usually strong voice. "Get…the car… and go…now."

"Shh, shh," I crooned, the tears falling off my face and onto his ear and neck, mingling with the blood. "Not without you. I called Charlie – he's on his way. He's coming."

"Where's…James?" he managed, struggling to rise. He made it up on his arms before he collapsed again.

"I hit him on the head with your hockey stick!" I wailed, gripping his arm as he lay panting on his side.

"That's…my girl."

I laughed, weak, watery, and slightly hysterical. "Can you get up?"

"No," he grunted. "Head hurts. Can't …breathe." He gasped, curling in on himself. "Bad…" He vomited again, retching and hissing in pain.

A horrified cry escaped me. "Edward, we've got to get out of here right now and get you to the hospital. Oh God, oh shit, where's Charlie?"

I heard a rustling sound and screamed as James' staggering form rose up in front of us. I scrambled to my feet in a fierce, protective position over Edward's body, my teeth bared and chattering in terror. I glanced frantically around to grab the remnants of the hockey stick, but it was too far away, as was the Volvo. I had nothing but my bare hands, and I knew I was no match for James Lucard. I tensed, my body locking down anyway in an instinctive fight instead of flight mode. The only way he'd get to Edward's broken form was through my dead or unconscious body.

"Bella, run!" Edward managed to shout. I growled, crouching lower as James approached. "Get the car! Bella, get the car!"

At his words I realized I did have a weapon at my disposal – the Volvo. If I could get to it and use it to run over James, we might be able to get out of this alive. I knew that if I had the opportunity I would run him down with no compunction. With a superhuman effort, Edward somehow managed to get to his feet and launch himself at James. I spun and sprinted for the car.

Edward's agonized howl brought my head around as I ran, but the quick, frantic search over my shoulder did not reveal what had caused the bone-chilling sound. I saw James bring his arm back and throw something at me a second before I felt a heavy, hard object hit my ankles with jarring force. It tangled in my feet and I tripped, crying out, and then I was falling. The gravel on the side of the road came up to meet me, and a sharp, burning pressure joined the ache in my ankle as I skidded on my left side, finally coming to a stop on the asphalt.

"Ahh!" I rolled onto my back, blinking dumbly, shocked to find myself lying on the side of the road when I'd been running full-out just a split-second ago. I heard labored breathing and lifted my head to see James standing unsteadily over me.

"Stupid bitch," he hissed, and brought his foot down hard on my lower leg. The sudden, searing pain tore a scream from my throat. "Won't be running anywhere now, will you?" I heard him say.

He bent at the waist, swaying and bracing both hands on his knees before giving his head a sharp shake. I tried to scramble away from him as he reached down and grabbed my leg, his fingers wrapping around my ankle. He gave a sharp tug and started dragging me, backing away from the glow of the Volvo's headlights as I twisted and fought futility against his far superior strength. Darkness crept in around the edges of my vision, but I saw another shadowy, wavering figure loom up behind him. It raised something up over both of their heads, and brought it down hard in a powerful motion. That was the last I saw as I was sucked into a whirlpool of blackness, away from the agony in my mind and my body.

**X-X-X-X-X**

I returned to consciousness in slow degrees, first becoming aware of the noise all around me. It came in fits and starts, but I could hear voices shouting and washing over me in waves. I could hear engines and machinery thumping and rumbling. I slowly opened my eyes, but shut them quickly as everything looped around me in a sickening spin. I groaned.

"She's coming to! Chief Swan, she's waking up!" I felt a pressure on my left hand that seemed to be down somewhere by my side. I tried to open my eyes again as I heard my dad's frantic voice.

"Bella, honey, Bella, please…"

"Dad," I moaned and forced my eyelids apart. I saw the blur of his face over me and managed to focus on his features. The sickening spin lessened, and I realized some of the disorientation was from the whirling red lights on top of quite a number of emergency vehicles.

"Bella, thank God. Thank God, honey." Charlie lowered his head to press his forehead against mine. "You're okay. You're going to be fine. We're here and we've got you now."

"Edward!" I struggled to sit up and realized I was on a gurney with tubes sticking out of my arm. My right leg throbbed with an unholy, violent pain. My vision swam again, but I forced the vertigo away. "Dad, where's Edward? He was hurt…Is he okay?"

Charlie glanced over his shoulder, and an EMT stepped up to me, trying to check my vitals and get me to lie back down. I saw Charlie exchange a look with his deputy, Mark, and Mark moved away.

"Dad!" I could feel panic rising in my chest.

"Shh, Mark went to check."

I searched frantically among the rushing officers, firefighters and EMTs. I saw the peculiar sight of a number of emergency workers huddled around what appeared to be Edward's hockey stick standing straight up out of the ground. I strained to see what they were doing, but was instantly distracted by another crew surrounding a gurney that was being pushed quickly to an additional ambulance. One technician was holding an IV bag in the air as three or four firefighters ran rapidly alongside the rolling bed and its burden, rushing to the vehicle. Another technician was perched over the still form, working frantically. My hysteria boiled over.

"Oh, God!" I cried, ripping frantically at the IV line in my arm and trying to stand. Strong hands held me in place as I struggled uselessly. "Is that Edward? Is it?"

"Bella," Charlie started in a wavering tone. I looked at him, and a choked cry escaped me as I realized he was crying silently, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"IS IT?" I shrieked, going completely still and staring into his reddened eyes. His face was pale and drawn. He looked one hundred years old.

He gave a quick, short nod. I flinched in shock, my body and mind recoiling from the knowledge that awaited me. Edward – no.

_No._

I stared at Charlie blankly, a steel door slamming shut in my head. I couldn't let even a hint of that thought take root. I wouldn't be able to bear it.

Charlie's hand reached out toward me, but dropped in defeat when I cringed and jerked away from him. "Bella." His voice was hoarse and broken. "Bella, I'm so sorry…"

Everything drained out of my body – all the strength, the breath, the will, all of the fight. Charlie's face grew dim and I watched curiously as it faded away.

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**Next chapter, Bella finds out what happened while she was unconscious:**

**My wonderful, brave boy. It was so…Edward.**


	31. Chapter 30: Body Check

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and characters. Me, I own what's left in this story.**

**Sarahsumbrella and silentnc beta and better this story - thank you.**

**I was amazed at the reviews for last chapter letting me know how much you care about these two - thank you _so_ much.**

**I know - shut up so you can read.**

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**CHAPTER 30: Body Check**

I faded in and out of consciousness in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.

_Edward…Edward…no…_

I didn't realize I was whispering it out loud, over and over, until I felt Charlie move closer to me and take my hand. "He's alive, Bella. He's already at the hospital. They're doing everything they can for him."

I started crying, silent sobs shaking my body. The relief was so great I felt paralyzed by it. I clung to Charlie's hand as the technician moved over me to inject something into my IV, and the pain in my leg faded to a distant, aching throb. I wished it worked as well on the pain of my thoughts. I let myself drift until we reached the hospital.

An involuntary moan escaped me as they lowered the gurney to the ground and rushed me inside the building. I struggled to sit up, trying to see if I could find where they'd taken Edward. The technicians pushing me down the hall swept me to the side as another bed burst out of a room ahead of us. A number of nurses and doctors surrounding the rapidly moving gurney, and I rolled painfully to my side, trying to rise up as far as I could to see the occupant. It was impossible to tell who it was, but my eyes locked on the tall, blond figure whose hands worked with frantic, desperate precision. It had to be Edward.

"Dr. Cullen!" I called, tears welling yet again. "Dr. Cullen, please…"

His head whipped around at the sound of my voice, and then back to focus on what he was doing. He stepped back, pausing to speak to the doctor standing next to him. They continued with the gurney toward the elevator, and Dr. Cullen moved quickly to my side, stripping off his gloves and throwing them into a red bin.

"Bella, are you okay?" His eyes moved over my face and down to my leg.

"Dr. Cullen." Tears were streaming down my face. "Please. How is he? Is he okay?"

He took a deep breath and I gasped, clutching at his arm. He met my gaze steadily. "They're taking him up to surgery. We'll know more then."

"Oh, God," I sobbed. His cool hand grasped mine. I curled my body over our hands, looking down at them. "P-Please. Go help him. Please let me know as soon as you can. I'm begging you, please let me know…"

He stroked my hair and lifted my face gently with his other hand. "Of course I will. We're going to do everything we can, Bella. Everything that's within my power, we'll do. I'll come see you when he's in recovery."

I nodded at his purposefully optimistic words and released his hand. "Thank you," I whispered. His mouth lifted in a grim mockery of a smile. He nodded at Charlie, who was standing behind me, before moving away and heading for the stairs.

I was wheeled into a curtained cubicle where the technicians transferred me carefully to the bed. I hissed in pain while Charlie hovered anxiously. "There you go." One of the technicians gave me a sympathetic smile as they gathered their equipment. "Take care and good luck. We'll keep you and your boyfriend in our thoughts."

"Thank you," I said, grateful for their help and kindness. "Very much."

They left, and Charlie moved to my head, poking at pillows and settling the blanket. "Can I get you anything, Bells?"

"No, Dad," I sighed, resting my head back and shutting my eyes for a second. I opened them and looked at him. "Thank you, though. Just sit – you're making me nervous."

He patted my hand and sat in the chair at the foot of the bed, moving it closer. We both looked up as a female nurse came in, sweeping the curtain closed behind her. "Hello, I'm Sophie. I'm going to get your vitals and get your dad here started on the paperwork." She gave Charlie a smile and handed him a clipboard with a pen and sheaf of papers attached.

"I'm Bella," I said as she peered at my face and took out a digital thermometer. She incased it in a plastic cover and indicated I should open my mouth. I did so obediently and watched as she took my pulse and blood pressure.

She took the thermometer out of my mouth at the beep and noted everything down on another sheet of paper. "Well, that all looks pretty good. Your heart rate is a bit accelerated, but I suppose that's to be expected under the circumstances." She gave me a soft smile and put her hand on my chin to tip my face. "So, other than your leg, how do you feel?"

"Okay," I said slowly, wondering what she was doing. I became aware that my left palm was stinging. I cast my eyes down and saw the gouges. "Huh," I said stupidly. "My hand."

"How does your face feel?" she asked. She took my hand, turning my palm back and forth before giving it a pat and moving to the cabinet.

"My face?" I repeated, lifting the fingers of my uninjured hand to my cheek. "Why?" I looked down at my fingertips and frowned at the trace of blood there. My eyes flew to Charlie.

"Looks like you're scraped up a bit," Sophie said, setting down a bowl of water, some sort of soap, and a small cloth. "Let's just get you cleaned up, okay? The doctor will be in soon."

I sat quietly while she gently wiped my face. I watched Charlie struggle with the forms while the nurse patted me dry and began cleaning my left palm.

"Bella," she began in a soft voice. "The EMTs said you lost consciousness earlier tonight. Did you hit your head?"

"No," I told her, my hand unconsciously going to my scalp. "It was just…my leg hurt so badly and I couldn't breathe, I was so scared…but I don't think I hit my head." Tears welled up and spilled over onto my cheeks as I remembered Edward's still and bleeding form lying on the road.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"No," I said after a moment. "Just my leg. It really hurts."

"I know honey." She touched my hand and finished wrapping it with a light bandage. "The doctor will give you something for that soon."

A few minutes later Dr. Gerandy walked in the cubicle. "Hello, Chief Swan. Bella." He reached for my chart, looking it over before glancing up at me. "I'm going to step out while Sophie helps you put on a hospital gown, but I'll be right back to check that leg out and do a more thorough exam. Charlie, do you want to come with me for a second?"

Dad looked indecisive. Sophie helped me swing my legs over the side of the exam bed and pulled a folded square of cloth out of a drawer. I grimaced as my ankle throbbed painfully, but managed a small smile for Charlie. "It's okay, Dad," I told him. I looked down at my feet. My shoes were gone. Huh.

They left the room, and Sophie helped me off with my jeans, carefully pulling them off my legs and trying not to jostle my ankle. I pulled my T-shirt over my head, and she held the thin gown in front of me as I slipped my bra off and put my arms through the short sleeves. She moved behind me to snap it together, and I tugged the material around my thighs. It was rough and scratchy, but my thoughts weren't on my small discomforts. They were on Edward. It was killing me not knowing what was going on and how badly he was hurt.

She moved around in front of me and took my hand, meeting my gaze. "The person who did this," she gestured down at my leg. "Did he hurt you anywhere else?"

"No." I closed my eyes and forced my thoughts back to the events that had taken place. "No. He just stomped on my leg, and dragged me before…before…" I remembered falling and James standing over me. I remembered Edward coming up behind him, raising something over his head and bringing it down on James. Everything was black after that, until I woke up on the gurney, but I distinctly remembered Edward hitting James and knocking him away from me.

"You're certain, Bella?"

I opened my eyes and met Sophie's concerned gaze. "Yes. I'm sure." I began trembling. "I blacked out after, but Edward -" I choked. "Edward was there. He…hit him with something. He hit him, stopped him, and then I…and then I don't remember anything until I woke up and all those people…the lights…" I started crying and shaking, and suddenly Charlie's arms were around me.

"Shh," he murmured in my ear and I could feel him trembling as well. "Shh, Bells, it's okay. You're all right."

I glanced up at Dr. Gerandy, who had entered the room with him. I clutched at his jacket. "I'm okay," I insisted. "Edward saved me. He did, Dad. He saved us both."

"Okay. Okay, Bells." He stroked my back until I calmed, and settled me back against the bed.

"I'm just going to do a physical exam, Bella, and make sure you don't have any other injuries. Okay?"

I nodded, and he asked questions, listening to my heart and lungs, checking my torso, arms, and legs. He pressed and poked at my belly, and then gently examined my swollen ankle. I hissed as he carefully manipulated it.

"Well, I don't think it's badly broken – that's good news," he said, writing in my chart before smiling at me. "I'll send in the technician for an x-ray to be certain, of course, but I think it may just be a small fracture." He pushed the rolling stool he was sitting on away from the bed. "I'm going to order some more pain medication for your leg, and I think we'll keep you overnight just to be safe, but everything else looks good. You're a very lucky girl, Bella." He and Sophie left quietly.

Lucky. Tears ran down my cheeks as my mind flashed back to the beautiful time Edward and I had shared in the meadow just before our world fell apart. I bit my lip as I fervently hoped it would not be our last together, and a sob escaped me. My God, had it only been a few hours ago? Charlie moved to the stool next to my bed that the doctor had just vacated, and held my hand.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, his face concerned and drawn.

I wiped my face with the hand that wasn't engulfed in his, and managed a shaky laugh. "Not any worse than any other time I've sprained my ankle, honestly." He smiled a little, and his face lightened somewhat.

Sophie walked back in with an injection of pain medication, and was followed by a technician with a portable x-ray machine. He snapped a couple of views of my ankle and said Dr. Gerandy would be back soon with the results. I lay back with a sigh after he left, trying to let the numbing effect of the pain killers soothe the knot of dread and anxiety in my stomach.

"Can I get you anything?" Charlie asked.

"I'm really thirsty," I mumbled, realizing it was true. "Can I have some water?"

"I'll go check and bring you some. I'll be right back – will you be okay?"

I nodded, staring up at the ceiling. I knew Edward was upstairs somewhere. He had to be okay. He just had to… I felt like I was going to come apart if I didn't find out what was going on – if he was stable, or if he was fighting for his life. "Dad?"

"Yeah, Bells?"

"Could you please check on Edward? Please?"

He nodded, touched the back of my hand, and then left.

**X-X-X-X-X**

I lay clutching the blanket around me when Charlie returned. He stroked my hair and kissed my forehead gently. I knew he was worried, but struggling to hide it from showing on his face. I didn't have the heart to tell him it wasn't working.

"Hi, Dad. Edward?" I asked.

"Still in surgery." He sat in the chair next to the bed, handing me a plastic glass of water before putting his hands between his knees. "Carlisle's there with him. I'll check again in a little bit."

"Thank you," I murmured, taking a couple of sips of the water before laying my head back on the pillow. I could feel anxiety creep through me despite all of the pain medication I'd been given, and tried to keep myself calm. _Still in surgery._

"Bells," Charlie began hesitantly. "We need to ask you some questions. We need to find out what happened tonight as soon as possible." My eyes flew to his and he tried to smile but it didn't reach his eyes. "I hate to put you though it, but you're going to have to give a statement before too much time passes. As soon as you feel able," he added hastily.

I nodded, the knot tightening in my belly. "Dad, what happened to James? I need to know."

Charlie heaved a breath and looked down at his hands. "Bella…"

"Please, Dad," I said softly. "I blacked out, and I don't remember anything after that. I saw Edward…" my voice trailed off as I once again pictured his tall figure coming up behind James, swinging whatever he held in his hands and hitting James with enough force to knock him away from me. I just didn't know how it was possible. He'd been so badly hurt.

"When we got there," Charlie began slowly, "We found all three of you lying on the ground, unconscious. Edward and…James, they were bleeding, but thank God you weren't." He paused. "Edward's injuries were pretty serious." He snuck a glance at me, and I winced. "James had been hit on the head a couple of times, probably with the pipe we found at the scene."

"I did that," I admitted quietly. "But it was with Edward's hockey stick, not the pipe."

Charlie brought his head up to meet my gaze in surprise. "No," he said slowly, "He'd definitely been hit with the pipe. That must have been Edward." He paused thoughtfully. "Did you…do anything else with the hockey stick?"

"Anything else?" I asked in confusion. "No, it broke. I hit him in the head with it to stop him from kicking Edward, and it broke."

"That's my girl." Charlie gave a small smile.

A sob escaped me, and he jumped to my side. "Bella?"

"That's what Edward said," I choked. "That's what he said when I told him." I wiped my eyes. "What did you mean when you asked if I did anything else with the hockey stick?"

"Well," Charlie began slowly. "We found it…stuck."

"Stuck?" I repeated. "Stuck where?" The last time I'd seen the hockey stick it was lying on the side of the road where I had dropped it…no. Wait a second. I'd seen it as they were loading me in the ambulance, sticking straight up out of the ground.

"Dad," I began slowly, trying to make sense of this. "Why was it stuck in the ground?"

"It wasn't…not exactly," he said, not meeting my eyes.

"What was it, then, exactly? What happened? Where's James?"

"Bella." He took both of my hands in his, being careful of my bandages. "When we got there, we found James unconscious on the side of the road, with the hockey stick pinning him to the ground. It was through his…through his shoulder." I yanked my good hand out of his and it flew to my mouth. "I think Edward hit him in the head with the pipe and then…well, then he made sure James couldn't come after either of you again before he lost consciousness."

I let out a moan and leaned forward, clutching my stomach. My wonderful, brave boy. It was so…Edward. I realized there was a strange, high pitched noise coming from me and Charlie was rubbing my back in concern.

"Where is James now?" I managed to ask. Personally, I hoped he was dead, but I wouldn't want to wish that pain and guilt on Edward, no matter how justified.

"He's upstairs. He's in surgery."

I froze. My head did a strange, looping roll and when it stopped I felt like another person – an enraged, berserk stranger. "What?" I heard this person ask flatly in my voice.

"Upstairs. He needed surgery, too…" Charlie's voice trailed off as I sat up and pushed him away, swinging my legs off the bed.

I was only dimly aware of the shooting agony in my leg as I tried to stand. I staggered, bracing myself on the bed with gritted teeth. I was going to kill James myself. I just needed to get him in my sights.

Charlie reached for me. "Bella! What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" he asked in astonishment.

"I'm going to kill him," I repeated out loud, taking a wobbling step forward. I knew I'd pay for this later with my leg, but at this moment the pain was strangely faint and secondary to my steadily growing rage.

"What?" Charlie gasped, grabbing my arms.

I struggled frantically. Didn't he understand that James was up there, with Edward? That he was probably in the surgery suite right next to Edward? Taking up time and resources that should be used only on Edward? What the hell was wrong with Charlie, with the people in this hospital? With Dr. Cullen? Maybe he didn't realize – he was pretty focused on his son. But I knew. I knew, and I would stop it. I couldn't bear that the monster that had done this to me, to Edward, was up there with him, no matter the situation. It wouldn't be borne.

"Let me go!" I yelled, fighting Charlie with all the strength I had left. "Don't you get it? He's up there – he's up there with _Edward__!_ Why aren't you helping me? Why aren't you stopping it! You're the police, for Christ's sake!"

"Bella!" Charlie's eyes were wide and scared as he grappled with me, trying not to hurt me. "Bella, calm down!"

"No!" I shouted. "Let me go! I've got to…I've got to…No!"

Dr. Gerandy and another nurse rushed in, the shock on their faces quickly turning to determination. I saw the nurse pull a syringe and small bottle out of a drawer, drawing liquid into the needle and turning to my IV. I kicked at Charlie and tried to pull the line out of my hand, but he held on to me tightly as the nurse depressed the plunger.

"No," I moaned, my body sagging and losing momentum as the drug hit my bloodstream. "No, Dad. Please. You can't let that…that _monster_ be up there with him. Don't you understand?" My voice slurred and I went limp in his arms. "Please, Dad." I begged him to understand, but he just stared at me with worried, confused eyes as he lifted me back onto the bed. "You can't let him…be up there…with Edward. I can't…bear it…please…"

My voice trailed off into a whisper, and this time I fought the darkness with everything in me. It did no good, and I went under once again.

* * *

**A peek into Bella's thoughts from next chapter:**

**Edward _was_ Superman; I'd known it all along. He was my very own superhero.**


	32. Chapter 31: Injured Reserve

**SMeyer owns Twilight, me whatever is left here.**

**Love to my betas Sarahsumbrella and silentnc.**

* * *

**CHAPTER 31: Injured Reserve**

When I woke, my head was fuzzy and I was disoriented. My mouth felt like someone had spent the time I was asleep filling it with sand. I blinked my dry, scratchy eyes, and realized that there was a person sitting in the chair in the room, which was different than the ER cubicle I had been in before. It wasn't Charlie. The figure was too light, too bright, and too blond.

"Dr. Cullen?" I rasped, still blinking, and he rose to come to my bedside. He handed me a plastic cup with a straw and I sat up, scooting carefully to prop myself against the pillows. I sipped gratefully at the cold liquid. I looked up at his tired, blank face and felt my heart stop in my chest. "Edward?"

The corners of his mouth lifted in what I did not mistake as a smile. "He's out of surgery. Esme's with him. He's stable." My body collapsed in relief, and I drew my first full breath in what felt like hours. "She sent me down here to see how you were doing. I'm afraid I was taking refuge here in your room. I needed a moment of quiet."

"How is he? How long was I…asleep?"

Dr. Cullen cocked an eyebrow at me, and I blushed. Of course he had heard what happened, and that I had to be sedated. I scowled.

"You've been out for a few hours. Edward's…doing as well as can be expected." He said nothing more, just took the cup from me and set in on a tray at my bedside.

"I just – I couldn't stand to think that they had that animal up there with him." I gritted my teeth and clenched my hands in the sheets. I could feel the irrational anger swelling through me again at the thought of James upstairs, being operated on, and I fought it back to a manageable level. I didn't want to give him any reason to sedate me again. I needed some answers. He squeezed my uninjured hand and turned to the chair in the corner, moving it closer to my bedside and sitting wearily.

I watched him, and when he said nothing more I asked, "Where's Charlie? Where am I?"

"We had you moved to a private room. I believe your father went to call your mother in Florida." I grimaced, and he gestured to my leg. "You'll need to stay overnight. It's fractured, but not badly. You'll have a brace on for a couple of weeks until the swelling has gone down, and then probably a walking cast or another brace. An orthopedic surgeon will be in to talk to you later."

"Oh." I thought about this briefly, looking at the twining fingers in my lap. My injury seemed fairly inconsequential, especially since it was now only a dull, faraway ache thanks to the amazing painkiller they'd given me. "Dr. Cullen, please," I said quietly. "Won't you tell me about Edward? What happened? How is he really?"

Carlisle took a deep breath and I met his gaze. He searched my face carefully for a few seconds and then sighed again. "Bella." He leaned forward in the chair and took my hand, holding it tightly. "I'll tell you, but you have to promise you won't get…upset, or I'll have to leave."

"Okay," I whispered shakily, fear snaking through me. The sensation was cold and chilling. I put my other hand over our already connected ones.

His eyes followed the movement. His thumb stroked the back of mine absently as he spoke. "He was unconscious when they brought him in to the ER. We were in surgery for over…well, for a few hours. He lost a lot of blood. He had to have multiple transfusions." My eyes squeezed shut and I gripped his hand like a lifeline as dread spread through me. Dr. Cullen continued in his soothing, gentle voice. "He broke a few ribs, bruised a bunch more, and has a collapsed lung. His spleen was damaged, and that's what accounted for most of the blood loss. We were able to repair it, so that's some good news."

Carlisle's eyes were blue and steady on mine. "Bella, he also has a concussion, a very bad one. He has a linear fracture of his skull. There was some brain swelling." A small sound escaped me but my gaze stayed locked on his. "We're keeping him unconscious for now, under an IV anesthesia, in order to give him a chance to heal. The swelling should go down on its own, with the help of medication. We didn't put a catheter – a drain – in. We're very hopeful we won't need to."

My lips trembled. "Is he – will he…" I pulled my hand loose to touch my own forehead with a questioning lift of my brows. I couldn't make myself say the words. I couldn't even think them.

"The swelling isn't too bad, Bella. We've done both a CT scan and MRI of his head. There's no reason to believe he won't make a full recovery."

"When will he wake up?"

"We'll discontinue the anesthesia in a day or two – tomorrow night or the next morning if all continues to go well. After that it will be up to him."

"But he'll be – he'll be…okay?" I asked in a small voice. Despite what he was telling me, I recognized the swelling in his brain was bad enough they were keeping him unconscious. I needed the reassurance badly.

"Brain injuries are a funny thing. No one can say for sure." He leaned back in the chair, keeping my hand in his. "But everything looks as good as we can hope for."

I nodded and bit my lip. _Please, let him be okay_. I started to ask another question, and saw him scrubbing at his face. The haggard, strained lines of his handsome features hit me. "Are you okay?" I asked shyly.

He blinked at me, surprised, and then smiled. "I'll be fine. Thank you for asking, Bella. Esme was pretty shaken up, of course – we both were – but he came through the surgery well. Plus he's young and in excellent physical condition, which helps. He's got every chance for a full recovery."

"Thank you," I said earnestly and he raised a brow quizzically. "For telling me. I imagine if he wasn't your son I'd still be sitting here, making myself sick wondering."

"Bella." He hesitated. "I should wait for your father to get back, but I find that I need to ask. Can you tell me what happened tonight? What happened to you and my son?"

I swallowed thickly, nodding slowly. "Of course. But I need to ask you something first."

He angled his head. "What is it?"

"I only want to say it once. I need to tell Charlie – and the police – but I don't think I can stand to keep going over and over it." I leaned back on the bed, pulling the blanket over me. "Dr. Cullen." I paused. "I need to be with Edward when I tell it. I need to know, with my eyes, in my head, that he's okay or I don't think I can get through it. It would help. Can I do that?" I couldn't relive those terrible moments, recall them on purpose and in detail, without being able to put my hands on him and see him breathing – without having tangible proof I hadn't lost him on that dark roadside.

He sat looking at me thoughtfully. "I'm not entirely sure. I'll have to talk to your father first." He continued quickly when he saw I was going to protest. "I'll have to talk to Edward's other doctors, too. We'll have to see how he does in recovery. But if he's stable overnight, I can try to make it work."

"I need to see him," I said. "I don't want to make him worse, or be in the way of his recovery, but I just need him if I'm going to talk about it. I'm sorry. I can't help it."

"I can't make any promises," he said, "but I'll see what I can do. That I do promise." He stood, stretching wearily. He must be exhausted. "You rest, as best you can. I'll be down later to give you an update."

"Can I see him tonight?"

"Tomorrow, Bella. You both need to rest to start recovering. They won't let anyone but me and Esme in the ICU right now, anyway."

"Oh." The disappointment was crushing, but not unexpected. "Thank you, Dr. Cullen. For everything."

"You're welcome." He bent down and touched my cheek. The gesture was so reminiscent of his son that it brought stinging tears to my eyes. "I'm very, very thankful you're okay," he murmured.

He smiled at me, and turned to leave. He ran into Charlie coming through the door.

"Carlisle," Charlie greeted him, grabbing his hand and giving it a firm shake. His eyes slid to me. "How's Edward?"

"He's out of surgery and stable, thank you. Can I speak with you for a minute?" This time both of their eyes touched on me, and I waved them weakly away, sliding down under the covers.

I heard their voices murmuring in the hall and the sound was surprisingly soothing. I lay in the hospital bed, but my thoughts were with Edward. He was here somewhere in the building. I had no idea where, but the urge to see him, to touch him, to make sure he was okay was nearly overwhelming. I thought about what Dr. Cullen had said, the long list of his injuries, and what Charlie had told me he had done to James. Tears slipped down my cheeks. There was no way he should have been able to do what he did, but he'd somehow managed the impossible. Edward _was_ Superman; I'd known it all along. He was my very own superhero. I shuddered at the thought that I had come so close to losing him tonight, all because of a madman.

Charlie walked back in and came to my side. "It's good to see you awake," he said cautiously.

"I'm sorry, Dad," I apologized. "I don't know what happened earlier. I just got so angry…" I let the thought trail off for fear the irrational fury would return if I even considered the situation again.

"It's okay, Bells. I know you were upset, but they had to treat James—"

"I know." I impulsively leaned forward and hugged him. His arms came around me with surprising strength and he held tight. I could feel him shaking slightly and realized he had been terrified for me. "I'm so sorry, Dad. I'm so sorry I scared you."

He lowered himself to the bed and rocked me. "Shh, shh," he murmured. "It's okay, Bella. I'm just so glad you're okay. I'm so glad to be able to hold you right now. I love you, baby girl."

"I love you too, Dad." I sniffed.

We sat like that for a long while. Finally Charlie pulled slightly back and gave me a smile. "So, Carlisle said you could give a statement tomorrow morning, and that you wanted to do it in Edward's room."

I wiped my eyes. "I only want to go through it once." I looked at him, my eyes pleading with him to understand. "And I need Edward to be there. If it's okay with Dr. Cullen and his doctors, I need to..." My hands started shaking.

"It's okay, Bells. Whatever you need. As long as Carlisle gives it the all clear, you can give a statement wherever you'd like."

"Can Carlisle and Esme be there, too?" I asked. I knew they both wanted to hear the details.

"Yes." He hugged me again and sat in the chair Carlisle had occupied. "The doc says you can probably be released tomorrow afternoon. I, ah, I talked to your mom, and she wants to come tomorrow night…"

I groaned and flopped back on the bed. "No, Dad, please…I just can't, not right now. I'm fine, and she can come later to see for herself that I'm all right, but just not now." I couldn't deal with reassuring her, worrying about her, worrying about Edward, and everything else all at the same time. Not right now. I knew she was beside herself with concern, but I just couldn't have her here I loved my mother, but she was a lot of work. I just wanted to concentrate on Edward, and let my dad's solid, soothing presence comfort me. It was the only thing that could right now, other than Edward.

Charlie blew out a breath, looking haggard and worn, but the slightest bit relieved. I knew having Renee here freaking out would be a strain on him, too. "Okay. I'll talk to her. Convince her to come out in a few weeks when everything's settled down. You'll have to talk to her," he added, giving me a warning look. "Do that Sky thing, or whatever it is, so she can actually see you and know you're all right."

I smiled at his reference to Skype. "Thanks, Dad. I'll do that when I get home, but I'll call her tonight."

**-0-**

It was very late when I convinced Charlie to go home. The day seemed endless. It was incomprehensible to me that Edward and I had been together enjoying one of the most profound moments of our lives just a few hours ago, and the day had ended like this. I fell into a troubled, restless slumber. I had strange visions when I did manage to fall asleep on my own – not dreams exactly, but dark, swirling images that brought me to wakefulness, gasping and apprehensive.

I wanted to see Edward. God, how I wanted to see him. Carlisle kept his promise and he stopped in during the night to tell me that he was doing well. He told me that all his vital signs were good, but it wasn't the same as seeing him for myself. Esme came by sometime later. I was half-asleep, but I felt her press her lips to my forehead as she murmured "thank goodness" before she slipped out of the room.

The orthopedic surgeon stopped by early the next morning. I was groggy and my head felt stuffy, like I was coming down with a cold, but the nurse assured me it was a side effect of the pain medication. I was glad Charlie came in about halfway through the surgeon's talk so he had to start over. He told me he wanted me back in two weeks to take some x-rays and make sure it was healing properly, and then they'd see if I needed a cast or if the brace would suffice. Charlie thanked him and shook his hand as he left. He set a hot chocolate from the local coffee shop on my bedside tray, which I sipped gratefully.

"The officer will be here in an hour to take your statement," Charlie told me. "I spoke with Carlisle, and he said it was all clear if you still want to do it in Edward's room."

My head snapped up to stare at him. "I can see Edward? Now?"

"Yeah." Charlie gave me a small smile. "He's in ICU, so they won't let all of us in the room. It will be just you and the officer."

"You won't take my statement?" I asked.

"No." He frowned. "It's not a good idea – not procedure when it involves a family member."

"But I wanted you and Dr. Cullen and Esme to be there, to hear." I could feel anxiety replacing the elation that filled me at the thought of finally being able to see Edward.

"Carlisle arranged that we could be in the hall, just outside. We'll be able to see and hear, but we won't be able to be in the actual room with you. Carlisle's influence only goes so far." He smiled.

I nodded. I couldn't imagine what Carlisle had done to arrange this in the ICU. I didn't want to risk infection or interfere with Edward's recovery. I was feeling terribly guilty for demanding this, but I knew I couldn't get through it any other way.

"I need a shower," I decided. I wanted to not only get clean, but wash away the taint of last night.

"Um…" Charlie looked uncomfortable and his cheeks went red as he looked from the brace on my leg to the small bathroom. I guess I know where my chronic blushing came from.

"Don't worry, Dad. I'll ring for the nurse."

Less than an hour later I was clean and dressed in old sweats Charlie had brought from home, ones that were large enough that the leg stretched to fit over my brace. Charlie pushed me in a wheelchair as we made our way up a couple of floors to the ICU. I was glad his coordination was better than mine, as I was nervous the entire trip that I would bump my leg against something or someone. I was already in a pretty good amount of discomfort, hence the wheel chair. I was too sore and too weak to make it any distance hobbling or on crutches. I barely made it just the few feet into the bathroom in my hospital room this morning.

The elevator opened onto a floor that was much quieter than the one my room was on, with less people. Charlie pushed me down the hall and around the corner, and I saw Dr. Cullen standing outside a door almost at the end. He said something to whoever was in the room as he moved toward us.

"Good morning, Bella. How are you?"

"Okay," I said, raising my face as he bent down to kiss my uninjured cheek. He looked exhausted. "Sore and tired. Cranky. Anxious." I smiled to take the concern off his face.

"Bella!" I looked up to see Esme rushing down the hall toward us. "Oh, it's so good to see you, dear." She hugged me gently, wrapping her arms around me and holding me for a long moment. When she pulled away I could see how pale she was, see the dark circles under her eyes and her slightly reddened nose. I tried not to stare, but in all the months I'd known Edward I'd never seen his mom look anything other than stunningly put together. It scared me. She blinked rapidly and her fingers stroked the road rash on my left cheek. I'd seen it in the mirror this morning, and it did look kind of gross. She tsk'd over my leg and smiled sadly at me.

"How is he?" I asked anxiously, my eyes searching hers. A tear spilled down her cheek. "Esme?"

She wiped her eyes and shook her head rapidly back and forth. "No, no, he's doing well, he really is. It's just so hard…so hard to see him…" A sob shook her slender shoulders but she straightened them with determination as Dr. Cullen placed a concerned hand on her back. "I'm so sorry, Bella, I don't mean to upset you. I know you want to see him, but just be prepared."

I nodded, my eyes wide, and she managed a wobbly smile as Charlie pushed my wheelchair to his room. My heart rate and breathing accelerated as we approached, and we all paused in the doorway. I stifled a gasp, tears filling my eyes, gripping the arms of the wheel chair until the pain from the scrapes on my palm broke through my shock.

He was so pale, so still. I wasn't used to seeing Edward so motionless. There was a breathing tube taped to his mouth, and another tube coming from his side. It looked like it was coming from somewhere underneath his arm, and ended in a bubbling machine on the floor. A chest tube, I thought dimly, and felt a little faint. Both eyes had dark blue-black bruising around them, and the lids were closed over his beautiful green irises. Among the various minor scrapes and scratches on his face I could see a wound just below his hairline that had been stitched closed and a cut on his lip at the corner of his mouth. A wide, thick white bandage was wrapped around his head, making the wild strands of his hair stick straight out of the top. His hospital gown was on backward – open in the front – showing bandages on his stomach that ran from the middle of his chest to past his bellybutton. They were stained slightly with dried blood. Charlie pushed me to his bedside and Dr. Cullen placed his hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him, not realizing tears were streaming down my face until they plopped in my lap.

"We'll leave you alone for a little bit," he said. I nodded gratefully.

A sob broke out of my chest when I was sure they were gone. I leaned forward, careful not to bump the bed, and looked at his poor face. The machines beeped and whooshed, giving me some sort of odd comfort that his heart was beating and his lungs were working. There were wires and tubes everywhere. My vision was blurry from tears as I stared at his arm on my side of the bed, the familiar muscle and sinew covered by abnormally pale skin. I followed the curve of flesh and bone down to his hand where it lay next to me, palm up, motionless and defenseless. Another sob shook me as I gently lifted it and cradled it in mine. I placed a careful kiss to the center, keeping my lips pressed to his cool skin as I cupped those long fingers over my cheek. I wept silently, grief, anguish, and relief shaking my body.

I don't know how long I sat like that, just feeling him, listening to the monitoring equipment. My nose and sinuses were completely stuffed up and there couldn't have been any moisture left in my body. I felt a warm hand on my back that I recognized as Dr. Cullen's, and he placed a box of tissues on my lap.

"Bella," he said softly. "The officer is here."

I nodded, sniffling, and carefully turned Edward's hand over in mine. I bent down and pressed my forehead to his knuckles. "Dr. Cullen?"

"Yes?"

"Can he hear us? Will this upset him?" I was angry at myself for not considering this sooner.

"I don't think he can hear anything, Bella. He's under anesthesia, just like if he was having surgery. He's completely unconscious. It's not like a coma, where we think there may be some sensory input. This won't upset him. I think he'd want to do this for you. He'll be glad to know he could help, even in a small way."

"Okay. Good." My relief was immense. The last thing in the world I wanted to do was cause him any more discomfort.

"Can I get you anything?"

I sat up, keeping Edward's hand in mine. I pulled out a tissue and wiped my eyes. "I'd kill for a Coke."

He smiled at me. "A Coke it is. I'll be right back."

He left, and I saw a very short, thin man in a police uniform standing in the doorway with Charlie. My dad cleared his throat. "Bells, this is Officer Peter Wesley. He'll be taking your statement."

"Hello," I said. I don't think I'd ever met Officer Wesley, and for some reason it made me feel a little more comfortable. He sat on the couch that was against the wall and under the window. He placed his bag next to him and pulled out a small recorder, notepad, and pen.

"Hello, Bella. I understand you'd like for Dr. and Mrs. Cullen to be here, as well as your dad?"

"Yes. I only want to go through this once, if that's all right."

He smiled at me sympathetically. "I understand. I'm going to be recording this, and I might take some notes as we talk. Okay?"

I glanced at Charlie, who nodded. "Okay."

Dr. Cullen came in and handed me a Coke and one of the hospital issue plastic cups filled with ice before retreating to the hallway. He, Esme, and Charlie stood in a loose circle just outside the door.

"Are you ready, Bella?" Officer Wesley asked.

I took a deep breath, glancing at Edward's still form. I ran my fingers lightly down his arm and took a firmer grip on his hand. "Yes, sir. I'm ready."

I saw Carlisle slide his arm around Esme's waist, and her hand slip into Charlie's. He looked slightly surprised and then grateful. I was glad Esme could help comfort him. This was going to be hard on all of us. Officer Wesley turned on the recorder and gave the official information – time, date, who was present, and all of that. I kept my eyes on Edward's bruised face as he started with the first question. He asked me to begin with the events of yesterday afternoon, starting when Edward picked me up at my house.

"We had plans for a picnic. Well, he had plans – it was supposed to be a surprise." I glanced at Esme. I had teased Edward that I knew who had made and packed the food. She returned my smile, and I brought my gaze back to his face. "He picked me up at my house about five o'clock, maybe a little later. We drove out on County Road 110, to the logging road just on the other side of Old Mill Road. There's a place there, a clearing he wanted to show me." I swallowed and fought tears at the thought of our meadow and the afternoon we had spent there. My eyes roved over his mouth, distorted by the breathing tube, and settled on his hand and long fingers held in mine. I remembered what those hands, fingers, and mouth had done, how he had worshipped me in the meadow, and a whimper broke past my control. Officer Wesley waited quietly, patiently, and I took a deep breath.

"We ate and talked, and…hung out." I stopped again, the memories a sweet agony. "He…gave me some wildflowers on the way back to the car. I don't know where they are." My eyes flew to Officer Wesley – suddenly I wanted those flowers. I hoped desperately they were still in the car. "Where's the Volvo now?" I wondered.

"We'll have it returned to the Cullens' as soon as possible," Officer Wesley explained gently. I imagined the police had it as part of the investigation, and I nodded. I wondered what would happen to my wildflowers. "You were in the clearing with Edward…?" he prompted when I remained silent.

I nodded again. "It started getting late, so we packed up and left – went back to the car."

"What time was this?" he asked.

"I'm not sure, but it was just starting to get dark." I thought of all the things we had talked about, him teasing me, laughing and happy. He'd asked me to trust him, to trust in our future together. Had I told him that I did? Had I told him how much he meant to me? Did he understand that he was my world, and that I couldn't bear to think of my life without him in it? I did remember how I had reached up to push the hair out of his face, tangling my fingers in it and tugging his mouth down to mine, his groan of pleasure. My fingers echoed the motion now, touching the strands sticking out of the top of the bandage on his head.

"We were driving home," I continued. "And we saw a car pulled over on the side of the road. He stopped to see if he could help – he does that, you know, him and Jasper – and neither of us knew…we didn't expect…" I swallowed.

"Take your time," Officer Wesley said quietly.

A thought suddenly occurred to me. "How did he know?" I asked. "How did James know we'd be on that road, right then?"

"Well," Officer Wesley began, glancing up at my dad. "We think he's been following you, you and Edward, for a while."

A cold, dreadful feeling trickled through me. He couldn't have followed us to the meadow, could he? The thought of anyone witnessing those private, oh-so-intimate moments between me and Edward made me feel ill, let alone someone as sinister as James Lucard. I didn't think he could have followed us – I had barely been able to follow Edward to the clearing – but…I also didn't think anyone was capable of doing the things James Lucard did last night. It showed how much I knew.

"He probably had this planned for a while, and when he saw you two pull off the road, he knew you'd have to come back down the 110 to get home sooner or later."

My shoulders slumped in relief. I'd probably lose it again if I thought Lucard had been anywhere near our meadow. I looked up at the group in the doorway. Esme and Dr. Cullen had their arms around each other. Esme's face rested against Dr. Cullen's chest, and she still held Charlie's hand. There was a muscle ticking in Charlie's jaw, but otherwise his face was expressionless.

"Oh." My mind just couldn't comprehend what a sick bastard James Lucard was. I briefly enjoyed the mental image of him stuck to the dirt and gravel on the side of the road like some insignificant little bug, and felt much better – especially when I thought of Edward being the one responsible for pinning him there. I shut my eyes and pressed my forehead to the back of his hand.

"Please continue when you're ready."

I let out a sobbing breath, laying my cheek on the bed rail and letting my gaze rest on Edward's face once again. I felt my heart ache as I described seeing the car pulled over on the side of the road with the hood up, and Edward doing his Dudley Do-Right imitation, stopping to help. Officer Wesley asked a number of questions about the red-headed woman that had been with the car, and I tried to remember everything I could. After the first glance I hadn't really paid that much attention. Very soon after I had seen her I had noticed James.

"You recognized Mr. Lucard?" Officer Wesley asked.

"Yes. Absolutely." I turned to stare directly into his eyes for a second, and then turned back to my original position. I wanted there to be no doubt about that.

I went on to describe calling Charlie on my cell phone, and the first incredible, unbelievable shock of James hitting Edward with the pipe. I heard Esme's quiet gasp but didn't dare look at her. I wouldn't be able to continue if I did. I managed to describe how James had used the pipe to hit Edward again, and then started kicking him when he fell. I told them about how I got Edward's hockey stick out of the trunk of the Volvo and hit James with it as hard as I could in the head. Up until that point I was able to recite the events in a somewhat detached manner, as if I had been an observer, like watching a movie. But when I remembered turning back to Edward, seeing him limp and not moving on the ground, with all that blood pooling red and wet and sticky underneath his face…on my hands…there had been so goddamn much…I realized I was clutching my stomach and heaving harsh breaths in and out of my lungs.

"Bella," I heard Charlie murmur in a painful tone and the rustle of his movement as he shifted, wanting to come to me.

"Give me a second," I wheezed, taking deep breaths. I fumbled for the Coke with my free hand, bringing it to my mouth and taking a shaky sip. For the first time since entering his room I brought my trembling hands to Edward's face and brushed my fingers along his high cheekbone. There was a slight abrasion just under his eye, right where the bruising started, and I traced carefully around it.

"The only thing I could think about was getting him away from James and to the hospital," I finally continued. "So I dragged him…"

I went on with the story. I could sense Dr. Cullen paying particular attention when I told them Edward had regained consciousness and was talking to me right before James made his reappearance. I didn't know if that was a good thing or if he was responding to the fact I may have caused more damage trying to haul his son back to the car. It was something that had been preying on my mind since last night. In trying to help Edward had I hurt him more? I wanted to ask but I wasn't sure if Dr. Cullen would tell me the truth. Charlie grunted – in approval or amazement, I had no idea – when I related how Edward had managed to throw himself at James so I could make a run for the car.

"I don't know what happened after that." I looked at Dr. Cullen apologetically, "I couldn't see, but he…cried out, and then James threw something at my feet. I'm pretty sure it was the pipe, and I fell." I swallowed. My mouth felt dry again, and I closed my eyes. "That's when he stomped on my l-leg and grabbed me. He started dragging me away from the car when I saw Edward behind him – I couldn't see his face, it was too dark – but I know it was him. He raised something over his head – the pipe? – like this," I demonstrated, lifting my arm over my head, "and I saw him hit James before I passed out. I don't know what happened after that until I woke up and everyone was there. He saved me, though." I gently placed my hand on his chest, over his heart. I suddenly had an overwhelming urge to feel it beating, to have indisputable evidence he was alive. "I don't know how he did it, but he saved us both."

There was silence in the room, broken only by the beeps and mechanical sounds of the monitoring equipment. Officer Wesley cleared his throat. "Thank you, Isabella. You did very well."

He spoke into the recorder and clicked it off, placing it on the table beside him. "If you remember anything else, please let me know. Anything at all, you never know when the smallest detail can make a difference." I nodded. "I'll let Chief Swan know if we need anything." He rose, putting his things back in his bag and then placed his hand carefully on my shoulder. "You were very brave, Isabella. Both of you were. You did just fine."

I simply nodded again, not taking my eyes from Edward's still face. I wasn't in a place yet where I could think about my actions being brave or otherwise. "Thank you, Officer Wesley."

He patted my shoulder awkwardly and walked out, shaking Charlie's hand and speaking with the adults in the doorway. After a few moments I felt Esme behind me. I didn't have to see to know it was her. I could feel her soothing presence and smell her sweet scent. Wordlessly she bent down and put her arms around me, hugging tightly. I finally let go of Edward's cool hand and wrapped her in both of my arms, holding on desperately.

"Thank you," she said fervently, softly, into my hair. She brushed it off my forehead and kissed my temple.

"For what?" I asked, confused, still clinging to her.

"For him," she said simply. "Thank you, Bella."

* * *

**Next chapter, Charlie has some reassurances for Bella.**

**"He's going to be okay, Bella. You heard Dr. Cullen. It's just going to take some time. And he's a damn hero in my book."**


	33. Chapter 32: PlusMinus

**Stephenie Meyer owns, not me.**

**Thank Sarahsumbrella for beta-ing and putting up with my incessant bitching. She deserves it.**

* * *

**CHAPTER 32: Plus-Minus**

I stayed with Edward for a little while longer, until the nurses came in to take care of his scheduled treatments. Carlisle and Esme followed Charlie and me down to my room.

"We'll run another CT on him later this afternoon," Carlisle explained. "That way we can see how the swelling in his brain is reacting to the medication. If it's gone down enough, we'll start weaning him off the anesthesia so he can wake up on his own."

I nodded, rubbing absently at the scrapes on my cheek. I was exhausted, and my brain felt like Jell-O. Charlie wheeled me into my room, stopping and engaging the brakes next to the bed. I would never have believed I would be so happy to see a hospital bed again.

"Bella," Carlisle began, taking Esme's hand and glancing at Charlie. "I wanted to thank you, too, for letting us be there today. It meant a lot," his voice broke and he cleared his throat. "It meant everything to know what happened, and that you were both there for each other. I'm very sorry it happened, but I'm so glad you're okay. I can't begin to tell you."

"S'okay," I slurred as Charlie helped me into the bed, maneuvering my leg carefully. I grimaced in pain. It hurt like hell.

"I'll go get the nurse," Charlie said, patting my hand as he noticed my expression. "I'll be right back."

"Thanks," I murmured, relaxing back in the bed and shutting my eyes for a second. I was completely spent, both physically and mentally. I felt somewhat lighter, though, as if telling the story helped me put it into perspective and purge at least some of the ugliness in some small way. I dimly wondered if I would have to see a shrink – I imagined so. Would they let Edward and I go together? My eyes flew open, looking at the doorway.

"Dr. Cullen!" I called weakly to his and Esme's retreating forms. He paused and turned back to me with a gentle smile. "Can I see him again later?"

Carlisle moved back to my bed and took my hand. "We'll see, Bella. Get some rest and we'll run his tests. I'll be back down later to see how you are doing and let you know. I promise," he added when I started to struggle into a sitting position. "Just rest right now, sweetheart." He leaned down and kissed the crown of my head. I had to stifle a sob and screw my eyes shut. It reminded me so much of his son's gentle gesture.

"Thank you," I managed, tightening my hold on his fingers briefly. "For everything."

He patted my hand and I heard the quiet movements of them exiting the room. The nurse bustled in, and I cracked my eyes open to see Charlie standing next to me. I gave him a weak smile, and the throbbing in my leg soon eased as the nurse did her magic with my IV. I let my eyes drift closed once more, settling into the dark oblivion where nothing hurt.

I woke much later, groggy and a little freaked out about the weird dreams I'd been having about pterodactyls swooping over my hospital bed. My mouth was gummy, and I turned my head to the bedside tray, looking blearily for my cup of water. My eyes encountered a sleeping Charlie, slumped in the bedside lounger in what looked like an extremely uncomfortable position, his face strangely puffy and drawn. Had he been crying? My heart lurched in alarm. I couldn't imagine what would make Police Chief Charlie Swan cry, but it couldn't be good.

I struggled to sit up, again hissing a breath at the pain in my leg. A nurse came in and smiled at me while checking my IV and going over my vital signs.

"How are you feeling, Isabella?"

"Bella," I croaked, clearing my throat. We spoke in soft tones in deference to the sleeping Charlie. "Okay. My leg still hurts, though. Can I get more of that pain stuff, except this time not quite so much?"

She put a blood pressure cuff on my arm and squeezed away. "The doctor should be in any minute. They were talking about sending you home, so he'll probably want to give you something oral instead. Can you wait a little while?"

I reached out and took the water cup, surprised at how weak my hand and arm felt. I gratefully took a deep swallow. "I guess so. Do you know how long?"

She shrugged, removing the cuff and jotting down information in my chart. "An hour or so? I can go check if I can give you some oral pain meds right now, though, if you'd like."

"Yes, thank you."

I settled back into the bed and shifted uncomfortably. I wanted to go home, be in my own room, my own bed, but then I'd be away from Edward. I wouldn't be near him, or able to demand updates on how he was doing. Could I leave him, not knowing what was happening with him in the hospital? I knew Carlisle and Esme would be with him, but it just didn't feel right to not be here myself. The nurse came back a short while later and handed me a couple of blue pills.

"Here you go; these should help with the pain. Dr. Maxwell will be in to see you in just a little bit. I'm thinking they're going to spring you." She gave me a grin.

"Thank you." I held the pills in my hand. "Do you know…that is, can you give me any information on how my boyfriend is doing? Edward Cullen?"

"Dr. Cullen's son?" she looked surprised for a brief second, and then looked at me a little closer, understanding moving across her features. "I'm sorry. I don't know any of the details."

I nodded, and she left. Dr. Maxwell eventually came to check on me, waking Charlie up and discussing my discharge instructions. We waited for the nurse to come back to unhook me from my various lines and machines, and most importantly, with the prescription for my pain medication.

I heard footsteps approaching and looked at the door, expecting my discharge nurse, but sat up when Dr. Cullen was framed in the doorway. He walked into the room with a smile.

"I hear they're busting you out of this joint."

"Yeah." I looked at his face anxiously. "I'm happy to go home, but…can I still come see him? How is he? The tests -"

"Everything looks good." Carlisle put his hands on the bed rail, resting his weight on them. "The swelling is going down at a phenomenal rate, just exactly as we hoped. It doesn't look as though any permanent damage was done, although we'll know more for sure when he's awake. We're going to keep him on the IV anesthesia until tomorrow, just to be sure, and to help with the… discomfort of his injuries." His eyes met mine, and I winced involuntarily.

"Will he be in a lot of pain?" I asked softly.

Carlisle's gaze flickered to Charlie before meeting mine directly. "Yes. I imagine so, for a while. Broken ribs are pretty painful, and he has a good-sized incision from where they did the abdominal exploratory to stop the bleeding from his spleen. Plus, I imagine he's going to have one humdinger of a headache, but we'll keep him on medication for that. I think he's going to be okay, Bella. I really do."

I let out a sigh of relief. "I can come back and see him, right?"

"I'm sure we can work something out for you to see him."

"Okay." I sat back against the raised bed, still watching his face. He looked tired and worn, but his features held signs of unmistakable relief. "I'd really like to see him before I go home."

Carlisle squeezed my hand. "Come on up after you're released. I'll see what I can do."

Okay, now I was really impatient for the discharge nurse. I sent Charlie out to hurry them along, plucking at the sheets on the hospital bed nervously. I knew Edward was still unconscious, but it reassured me in some inexplicable way to actually _see_ him, to know he was alive and breathing and on his way to being all right.

The nurse finally came, bearing an armload of instructions for the brace on my leg and a prescription for painkillers. I waited while Charlie signed all of the paperwork to release me, and finally we were done. I had to leave the room in the wheelchair, even though I wasn't actually leaving the building yet, but I didn't say anything as I figured Charlie could push me faster than I could walk.

"Now, Bells, you're going to have to take it easy if you can't get into Edward's room to see him," Charlie warned as he steered me into the elevator. "He's really sick, sweetheart, and Dr. Cullen has gone out of his way to bend the rules for you."

"I know," I said quietly, twisting my hands in my lap. "I'm just so worried about him, Dad. I – I don't know what would have happened if he hadn't stopped James Lucard. I don't know how he did it, but he stopped him from…well, from doing anything worse than he did. And now Edward's here, in the hospital, all broken and hurt…" I bit my trembling lips, willing myself not to start crying again, but hot tears blurred my eyes and one trickled down my cheek.

"Hey," Charlie pushed me out of the elevator and stopped, kneeling down next to me and handing me his handkerchief. I wiped my eyes and took deep breaths, bringing myself back under control. "He's going to be okay, Bella. You heard Dr. Cullen. It's just going to take some time. And he's a damn hero in my book." Charlie paused and swallowed. "I'm just glad you're both okay."

He hugged me gently, and I lay my head on his shoulder, wiping at my tears. After a few long moments I raised my head, taking one last swipe at my face with his handkerchief and handing it back to him with an apologetic laugh. "Sorry." Charlie rose and pushed me in the wheelchair to Edward's room.

Esme was sitting next to his bed, reading a book. Dr. Cullen was flipping through a rather thick file, a pair of glasses perched on the end of his nose. Edward was motionless and unmoving on the bed, looking exactly the same as he had earlier. And just like earlier, I had to fight back tears at the sight of him laying there without any of his usual animation and presence.

Carlisle assured me that he was doing better; the swelling in his head was continuing to go down even quicker than they had hoped according to the tests they had run that afternoon. I sat in my wheelchair and laid my fingers on the back of his hand, resting my head on the bed rail until Charlie cleared his throat and said we had to leave.

"You'll call if there's any change?" I asked, feeling the pressure of unshed tears in my chest as Charlie backed me out of the room. "Please?"

"Of course." Esme rose and bent down to kiss my cheek. "We'll see you tomorrow, Bella. Try to get some rest, okay?"

I sniffed, and glanced back at Charlie. "I can come back tomorrow?"

He glanced at Carlisle and then gave me a small smile. "Yeah. I think you deserve another day off school."

School? I started at the thought of something that seemed so mundane, so every day, so…unnecessary after everything that had just happened. Charlie must have read the thoughts flashing across my face.

"Don't worry, we'll take it day by day. Your teachers know what happened, so there's no rush to go back until you're ready."

Oh, God. Alice. And Angela. "Do the girls know?" I asked Charlie as he wheeled me down the hall to the elevators.

"Yeah." I could hear a note of amusement, of exasperation, in Charlie's voice. "Alice has been calling to see how you both are doing and reporting back to the others."

"Oh. Good." I was glad they knew what was going on, and I wouldn't have to explain too much.

"You'd probably better call her when you're feeling up to it," Charlie continued. "She's a little frantic. I don't think she believes me when I tell her you're really okay."

I smiled. Knowing Alice, that was probably an understatement.

As hard as it was to leave Edward at the hospital, I couldn't deny that I was glad to be home. Charlie helped me onto the sofa, where I curled up under the afghan and promptly fell asleep until well after dinner time. Charlie warmed up some soup – the only thing that I felt my stomach would tolerate right now – and helped me up the stairs to my room. I read for a short while, and once again fell into a deep sleep.

I awoke a few hours later. I had no idea what time it was, but it was dark and silent. My heart was thundering and my breath panting in and out of my lungs. I froze under my covers, my mind searching frantically for the reason why I was freaking out, and memory crashed over me. I turned onto my stomach, burying my face in my pillow, and cried myself back to sleep.

Alice came over barely minutes after school let out the next day, and Angela was at the front door seconds later. I cried again when I saw them, and they sat on either side of me, hugging and comforting me as only best friends can do. I couldn't give them the gory details of what happened, and they didn't press. They filled me in on homework – it could have been worse, thankfully there were only a couple of weeks left in the school year. Other than finals coming up, there wasn't much going on in classes. They also filled me in on the gossip – it could have been better. Everyone was abuzz with what had happened to Edward and me. I couldn't blame them too much. It was quite a sensational happening for our town.

"The entire Forks High hockey team is heading over there today," Alice told me, and I looked at her in surprise. "They know they won't be able to see him, but they want to show their support. I think most of the parents are going, too."

I was startled at first that they would go, knowing they couldn't actually visit with him, especially since he was still unconscious. It made me realize how well-liked Edward was, how respected, and not just by the high school hockey team. I think he'd be embarrassed but pleased that they wanted to do this for him. I imagined it would also give his mom and dad some support and comfort. We could take all of that we could get.

"Jasper's been really upset," Alice continued. "They won't let him in to see Edward, either."

"He's not awake yet. Maybe when he is, they'll start allowing more people to visit so Jazz can see him. Only family is allowed while he's in the ICU." And me, thank goodness. I was desperately hoping I could go see him tonight. Charlie had left to check in at the station briefly while Alice and Angela were with me, and he said he would call Carlisle to see if I could stop by to visit. I knew I wouldn't be able to stay long, but just seeing him would sooth me.

Alice took my hand, her eyes soft with sympathy. "You tell him we all love him and are thinking about him, okay?"

I nodded, unable to speak. I had to look away when Alice's eyes went to the scrape on my face and they filled with tears. I felt Angela's arms come around me from behind as Alice hugged me fiercely, and I took comfort in my friends.

Charlie returned home and informed me that Carlisle had arranged for me to visit for a short while during the evening visiting hours in the ICU. He told me there had been some slight improvements in Edward's vital signs, although he was still on the anesthesia. I laboriously made my way out of the house and into the car, and then into the hospital when we got there. It was all worth it to see him, to be able to touch him, to feel his skin under my fingertips, the curve of sinew and muscle in his arm. Carlisle wasn't in the room when I arrived, but I visited with Esme for a while before she left me alone with Edward. I sat in the chair next to his bed and laid my cheek on his arm, gazing into his still, pale face. Reddish blond whiskers darkened his cheeks and jaw, and he looked so thin, so vulnerable. Esme returned with Charlie in tow, and I awkwardly stood to press a gentle kiss to Edward's cool cheek.

"I love you," I murmured. "I'll be back tomorrow. Please get better. Please, Edward." I squeezed my eyes shut, but the tears leaked out anyway.

I woke that night, shocked out of my sleep by piercing, staccato screams. My throat ached and burned, and I realized the screams were coming from me. I scrambled up in my bed to huddle against the headboard, pulling the quilt tight under my chin and shaking. I was sweating but clammily cold at the same time, and I burst into tears at the when Charlie ran into my room, flinging the door open and into the wall behind it with a crack like a gunshot. I jumped and huddled into a ball.

"Bella!" he exclaimed. "Bella," he repeated, more softly, pulling me into his arms and holding me close. I relaxed my hold on my quilt to clutch at his shirt, sobbing wetly, soaking the material.

I eventually became aware of his voice, muttering and trying to sooth me. I snuffled and surreptitiously wiped my nose and face on the corner of the sheet.

"Sorry," I murmured, feeling a heavy, stuffed-up calm overtake me in the wake of the storm of emotion. "Bad dream." I gave a shiver at the memory of the dark images that invaded my mind while I was sleeping – the brilliantly crimson, sticky wetness that matted and darkened rusty bronze hair, the shattered remains of a hockey stick clutched in my hand. That first sickening thud of the pipe hitting flesh…

I struggled to stand and hobbled for the bathroom, making it just in time to vomit into the toilet. Tears rolled down my face as I lay my cheek on the cool tile of the floor, and Charlie silently handed me a damp washcloth. I managed a trembling smile and wiped my face. After many long moments I felt his hands curve over my shoulders and pull me to him.

"Let's get you back to bed," he murmured, holding me close to his chest as he carried me into my bedroom. He tucked me under the covers like I was a small child, and sat next to me, rubbing my arm over the quilt in a soothing, comforting motion.

"I love you, Bells. You're home. You're safe."

"Love you, too, Dad," I managed, a numbing lethargy overtaking me. I had a moment of trepidation that the nightmares would return, but gave myself over to my father's safekeeping and fell asleep.

The next morning I managed to clean up on my own and make it down the stairs to find Charlie waiting for me, a couple of toaster waffles warmed and sitting on my plate. I lowered myself into the kitchen chair with a groan.

"Morning, Bells. Did you get any sleep last night?" he asked carefully.

I rubbed my hand over my face and then through the slightly tamed tangles of my hair. "Yeah, a bit." I smiled at him. "Thanks, by the way," I added shyly.

He shrugged and turned to the counter. "No problem." He took a deep breath, looking down at his hands as they gripped the edge of the countertop. "Um, I wanted to ask you…that is, I wanted to say…" He huffed a deep breath, and turned to face me. "Bella, if you need to talk to someone, about what happened, about how to deal with it, you'll let me know, right?"

I stared at him blankly, my fork hovering over my syrup-coated waffles. "Huh?"

He met my confused gaze with determination. "You need to let me know if you want to talk things over with a…professional. If you keep having nightmares. Christ." He sagged back against the counter and hung his head. "Or if you just need to talk to me. Bella…what you've gone through – I've seen it eat at people. Ruin them. I don't ever want that to happen to you."

I set my fork down. He was talking about a psychiatrist. I continued to stare at him, considering. "I don't know," I finally said. "It's just…too soon to think about it, I guess. Edward needs to be okay. He needs to be awake and home before I can even think about how to deal with the rest of it." I picked my fork up, staring at it as if I'd never seen one before.

"Okay," he said softly, moving to me, and I felt the warmth of his hand on the top of my head. "But just promise me that when you're ready, you'll talk to someone. You won't let it fester. Promise me that you'll ask for help if you need it."

I nodded in affirmation. I could only imagine the things he'd seen in his career as a police officer, the broken people and aftermath he'd had to deal with. I didn't want to worry him, and I really didn't want to become one of those broken people. I just wasn't in a place right now where I could give what I was personally going through serious consideration. I was so worried about Edward. I needed to know he was going to be okay and on his way to recovery before I could even begin to think about what I needed.

Charlie hung around the house all day even though I tried to assure him that I would be fine by myself. I spoke with Esme and was relieved to hear that Edward was continuing to improve. It was a huge relief that he was showing signs of getting better, but I wanted him up and awake. Charlie spoke with her briefly, and they decided that he would drop me off at the hospital later while he went into the station for a short while. I took a nap on the sofa until then. The meds made me really tired and out of it, but the pain in my leg was still a throbbing annoyance so they were a necessary evil.

I spent the evening at the hospital, chatting with Esme and Carlisle and holding Edward's hand. I actually studied for my finals a little, too. When I asked what Edward would do about his final exams, Esme assured me he'd be allowed to make them up when he was feeling better. Both of our eyes teared up at this. We all so desperately hoped that soon he'd be well enough, both mentally and physically, to do so.

"We're hoping to be able to take him off of the anesthesia tomorrow if his vital signs and tests come back in the same manner they have been," Carlisle told me as I was getting ready to leave. "He should wake up on his own shortly after that. Then we can get rid of all the tubes and machines." He gestured to the equipment that protected Edward's airway and breathed for him while he was under anesthesia.

I leaned over to kiss his cheek and gently touch the bandage that wound across his forehead.

"I love you." I whispered my mantra to him as I left. "Please get better."

* * *

**Guess who rejoins us next chapter...**

**"Bella?" It was Esme, and her voice was more animated than I had heard it in a long time. "Bella, it's Edward. He's awake."**


	34. Chapter 33: Off Sides

**Twilight is Stephenie Meyer's. Major Misconduct is mine.**

**Sarahsumbrella and silentnc beta - thank you!**

**FYI - the story has a total of 35 chapters - we're getting to the end...**

* * *

**CHAPTER 33: Off-Sides**

I felt really crappy the next day. Was it Thursday? Not only didn't I sleep well – more vague and disturbing nightmares that consisted of Edward's blood pouring all over me – but the pain meds were making me quite nauseous. The one bright spot was when Carlisle called to tell me that the morning round of tests had gone extremely well, and the doctors were going to discontinue the anesthetic agent that was keeping him unconscious. The swelling in his brain had gone down to the point that it was no longer a major concern, and everything else was as normal as could be expected, considering he'd been beaten with a lead pipe by a maniac.

"That's good news," I breathed, clutching the phone to my ear. I felt a wave a relief coursing through me, and my world felt a little brighter.

"It's excellent news," he assured me. "We'll see you later, Bella."

The routine of the past few days continued. Angela and Alice came over after school, this time with Jasper in tow, while I waited for evening ICU visiting hours. Charlie once again brought me to the hospital, escorting me up to Edward's room before leaving to put in some time at the station. Esme was curled in the bedside lounger with a book on her lap, and I limped over to stand next to the chair on the other side of the bed, my eyes examining his face. His appearance hadn't changed except for the thick growth of stubble turning into whiskers covering his cheeks, and I experienced the familiar pang of disappointment. Every time I came to see him I hoped he'd look different, that he'd look…awake. I brushed my fingers gently across the bristly hairs, marveling at the kaleidoscope of color.

"They've taken him off of the anesthetic agent," Esme told me, coming to stand at my side and give me a hug. "He's still unconscious, but that's to be expected."

"Do they know when he'll wake up?" I whispered, leaning into her and taking comfort in her mom-ness.

"He'll wake up when he's ready. He's got a lot of healing to do." She gave my shoulders a squeeze before reaching out and doing the same to his fingers where they lay on the bed. I lowered myself into the chair as she went back to hers, and let myself become mesmerized by the regular rise and fall of his chest. He still had the breathing and chest tube in, and Esme told me they wouldn't be removed until he woke up and the doctors were sure he could breathe on his own. My heart stuttered and my stomach felt like it was filled with lead at even the smallest possibility that he might not. I sat listening to the monitors and machinery, my hand over his, dividing my attention between the TV mounted on the wall and his steady, mechanical breathing.

**-0-**

Friday was a repeat of the day before – biding my time until I could go see Edward. Charlie and I decided I would go back to school on Monday, and I was thankful Alice and Angela had kept me up to date on most of my classes. I worked on Edward's and my final Chemistry project, grateful that we had almost finished it before the …accident. All I had to do was take all of his neatly prepared notes on the work we had done and write them up into a final report. My fingers were tracing over his clean, elegant script when the phone rang.

I pushed back from my desk and leaned over to pick up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Bella?" It was Esme, and her voice was more animated than I had heard it in a long time. "Bella, it's Edward. He's awake."

I dropped the phone, covered my face, and burst into noisy, graceless sobs. Charlie rushed into the room, saw me crying helplessly on the floor, and scooped up the receiver. I could hear him talking to Esme, reassuring her I was okay – he thought – and then he lowered himself next to me. He wrapped his arms around me, rubbing my back while I cried in relief. I wiped my cheeks and lifted my face to his.

"Better?" he asked gently. I nodded, and he helped me stand. "I imagine you want to go to the hospital, huh?"

I nodded vigorously and followed him down the stairs as fast as my brace would allow.

When we got to the hospital, Dr. Cullen was waiting for me at the nurse's station. I hobbled over and gave him an exuberant, impulsive hug.

"How is he?" I asked eagerly. "Is he okay?"

He smiled down at me. "Pretty good, actually. He's quite groggy, but aware and responsive." Carlisle guided me through the ICU ward doors as I limped eagerly down the hall. He put his hand on my arm as we approached Edward's room, and I paused to look up into his concerned face.

"What is it?"

"He doesn't seem to remember – yet – anything that happened with James. We told him there had been an accident, but not any of the details. It may take a while until we know exactly how much he recalls on his own."

"He doesn't remember?" I whispered. My thoughts whirled. "What _does_ he remember?"

"Everything is a bit fuzzy for him. That's to be expected," he went on to add at what must have been an alarming look on my face. "Even without the head injury, the medications he's on and the anesthesia would make him a little out of it for awhile. As he heals, it will get better, and we'll know…well, we'll know."

He didn't remember the meadow? The things we said and did? Was it worth forgetting that, so he didn't have to remember the pain, suffering, and terror of what happened afterwards with James? I tried to keep my face composed and was glad Dr. Cullen had moved on down the hall and couldn't see my expression.

"It bothers him to talk a lot, just so you know. The breathing tube he had in is pretty irritating, and his throat is going to be sore," Carlisle continued.

I took a deep breath. What wasn't sore on his poor body? Carlisle paused in the hallway just before his room as a nurse exited through his door. He smiled at her and introduced us. "Kate, this is Bella, Edward's girlfriend. She's going to be visiting while Esme's at home taking care of a few things."

"Hi, Bella." She was bright and friendly as she shook my hand. "He's been sleeping a lot, but wakes up every now and then. If you need anything, just buzz me."

I nodded, too anxious to speak, and Carlisle steered me toward Edward's room. I paused in the doorway as Carlisle walked in to move the lounger closer to the bed. I limped over, my eyes not leaving his unmoving figure lying under the sheet and light blanket. I was monumentally disappointed to see that he was asleep, his eyes closed, although I could tell he was in a slightly different position than he had been on my previous visits. Carlisle helped me settle into the lounge chair, placing the book bag I had brought with me on the small table.

"He's asleep," Carlisle murmured. "Real sleep, not under anesthesia." He smiled down at me. "It's the best thing for him, Bella. It will help him heal and get away from the discomfort. Esme or I will be by a little later."

I nodded, quelling the frustration that resulted from seeing him look pretty much the same as when I last left him, minus the breathing apparatus. I understood the message loud and clear – don't wake him. I'd agree to anything just to be with him. I hated being at home, constantly waiting for someone to call and give me an update on his condition.

I watched him for a few minutes and then sighed, pulling my English essay out of my bag while I tried to wait patiently for him to wake up again. I read for about a half an hour before he started stirring, his hand twitching and his head moving slightly. I set the papers aside and leaned forward, reaching out for his hand. Slowly, so slowly, his head turned toward me and he took a deep breath, his eyelids fluttering and gradually opening into slits. I muffled a sob as his bloodshot green eyes finally met mine. Another escaped, however, and I covered my mouth with my free hand. His gaze was bleary, dazed, and blank as it met mine.

"Edward," I whispered shakily. "Oh, Edward."

He stared at me, and my heart plummeted to my stomach. There was nothing of my Edward in his gaze. He blinked, squeezing his eyes shut before opening them once again, rolling them around to take in the room. They settled back on my face, hazy and indistinct. I reached out with trembling fingers to touch his cheek. His eyes closed for long minutes, and I thought he'd fallen back asleep. I just stared at him, unable to look away from his dear, battered face, and wondered what the hell I was going to do next. He sighed again, blinking heavily, and those beautiful eyes focused on mine.

"Bella," he croaked.

I couldn't stop the sob from breaking out of my chest as I bent my head to his hand, pressing it hard to my lips, my body shaking and shuddering with relief. He struggled briefly, trying even in his dazed state to figure out what was wrong, before falling back with a moan.

"Shh, Edward. Stay still," I soothed him through my tears.

"Okay?" His voice was rough and unrecognizable, but he squeezed my hand repeatedly. The pressure was slight, but I felt it nonetheless. "Bella."

"Yes, yes, I'm fine." I tried to smile, but it wobbled precariously. "I'm fine. You, though…" My right hand touched his face again as my left hand clutched his desperately. "Oh, Edward."

His eyes shut briefly, and he grimaced before looking at me once again. "Can I get you anything?" I whispered.

"Hurts," he said in this weird, gravelly voice that was so unlike him. "Jesus."

"I'll ring for the nurse," I said quickly, reaching for his call button. He was either still pretty well out of it or in a huge amount of pain for him to react that way. We needed a nurse in here right away.

A few minutes later Kate walked in his room. "Hey, you're awake again." She smiled at us and checked his IV lines. "Edward, you probably don't remember me, but I'm Kate. What's up?"

"He said he hurts," I explained, with a worried glance at his face.

"Ah." She patted her pockets and pulled out a syringe. She had a small scanner in her other hand, and flashed it at his wristband and then at the syringe before setting it aside. "I've got the good stuff right here." She injected the contents of the syringe into his IV. "That should help. Let me know if the pain gets any worse, okay? Do you want some water, or anything else?"

He shook his head slowly, grimacing again.

"I'd try to hold your head as still as possible," she said kindly, checking the bandages wrapped around him. "You got quite a knock there, sweetie, and I don't imagine it's going to feel so great for a while."

He grunted and shut his eyes.

"Thank you," I said as she moved to the door.

"No problem. I'll let Dr. Cullen know he's awake again."

It was quiet after she left. Edward was lying motionless in the bed with his eyes still closed. I shifted to sit in the chair, leaning over to put my essay back in my bag. His hand lifted weakly.

"Stay?" he asked quietly.

"As long as they'll let me," I assured him, bringing his fingers to my lips to kiss them.

"Mmm." One corner of his mouth twitched. It lightened me considerably to see him even trying to smile. "Up here?"

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Up here," he repeated, puckering his mouth.

It was such an Edward thing to say, and the relief I felt was immense. I maneuvered my leg in its brace so I could pull myself up on the bedrail. "You sure?"

He started to nod, winced, and instead whispered, "Yes."

I leaned over and gently, carefully pressed my lips to his. They were dry, chapped, and didn't taste like him, but they were familiar to my heart.

"Better," he sighed, his tongue swiping along his lower lip. "Good. Thank you."

"Anytime." I sat back in the lounger.

He blinked his eyes open, smiled at me, and then closed them again. His hand slid along the sheets, looking for mine. I took it and my chest tightened again in happiness and relief. He frowned a little and turned his head toward me.

"No strength," he complained.

"Don't worry about it," I told him. "It'll come soon enough. Just rest."

"Really okay?" he whispered. I knew he was still worried about me.

"Really," I assured him. I bit my lip and looked at his face. "Edward…you don't remember what happened?"

His frown deepened. "Dad told me…you were…hurt. But okay now?"

I nodded before I realized he couldn't see me with his eyes shut. "Yes," I whispered. "Edward, I'm really okay. It's you we're all worried about."

"No worries," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching again. I tried to return his smile, but suddenly I was sobbing, clutching his hand, my entire body shaking with the force of my cries. I had no control over my emotions – I was so happy to see him, awake and aware, and it weakened the tight hold I'd been maintaining on my mangled composure. I buried my face in the bed sheets and eventually became aware of his hand slowly stroking my head.

"Shh, Bella, shh, it's okay. Scaring me." I realized he was struggling to sit up, and it snapped me out of my emotional storm.

"Don't," I sniffed, wiping my nose on my sleeve. "Stop, Edward. Hold still. I'm sorry, I'm just so ha-happy…you're awake." I held my breath as tears threatened again, but I struggled until I had some semblance of control. I knew that if he hurt himself or if I upset him in any way I wouldn't be allowed to come back, and that was unacceptable.

I could see him fighting the dopiness from the pain meds, but the concern showed plainly in his eyes. I managed a smile, and he relaxed, not taking his eyes from my face. I could tell it was costing him.

"Go to sleep, sweetie," I whispered, touching my fingers to the small, unmarred spot on his cheek. I stroked down his arm, bare under the hospital gown. I couldn't stop, my fingers itched to feel him, know he was real and here with me. "I'll be here when you wake up, I promise."

His eyes held mine, but drooped sleepily. "Will you…tell me?"

"Tell you?" I frowned. "Tell you what?"

"Tell me. What happened."

I bit my lip. He was tired but lucid, and I knew what he was asking. I searched his gaze, knowing I would be honest with him as I had always been. "Yes," I whispered. "But not right now. I'll tell you everything you want to know, but later. Rest now. Get better."

He frowned, but nodded carefully, his eyes blinking as sleep began to overtake him.

"Edward?" I asked hesitantly. I didn't want to push him or upset him, but I couldn't stand not knowing for another minute.

"Hmm?" He was fading.

"Do you…" my voice trailed off in a barely-there whisper, and he forced his eyes to mine once again. "Do you…remember the meadow?"

I stood in an agony of dread, anticipation, and fear. He stared at me intently for a long time, and I began to feel light-headed. Finally his eyes shut and he sighed. A small smile curved one side of his mouth, and my heart leapt in true happiness for the first time since I'd seen James Lucard at the side of the road. It was my smile.

"Not a dream?" he murmured.

"No." I pressed my fingers to my lips to contain my sobs once again, this time in joy. "No."

He breathed deeply, carefully, and his hand reached out for mine. I squeezed it gently. "Good. Then everything...going to be all right."

I stood watch over him until his body relaxed into sleep.

God, I hoped so.

Esme returned before he woke, and told me that it would be okay if we both stayed with him in the room as long as we didn't get in the way. I sat on the sofa under the window listening to my iPod while Esme perched in the chair, reading while he slept. Occasionally her hand would reach out for mine and we comforted each other by holding on tight. Charlie showed up later, and I realized with surprise it was just about dinnertime.

"C'mon, Bells, I'll take you down to the cafeteria to grab some food. I have to head back to the station for a while, but I'll come pick you up later."

I hesitated, looking at Edward's still form. I'd promised him I'd be here when he woke.

"Go on," Esme encouraged softly. "If he wakes up I'll tell him where you are and call you on your cell right away. Bring me up a snack." She smiled encouragingly, and I let myself be led away.

I forced down some food – macaroni and cheese, maybe – and made small talk with my dad. I finished quickly, anxious to get back up to Edward's room before he woke again, but Charlie put his hand on my wrist when I started to get up from the table.

"Bella." He was giving me a serious look, one of his cop looks, and I settled slowly back into the seat.

"What?" I asked in trepidation. _Don't let it be bad news_, I thought. Please, no more bad news.

"Bella, look, I wanted you to know that the girl who was with James that night, the red-headed girl? She came to the station today."

"Came to the station?" I repeated, not understanding. "What? Why?"

"She actually came with Chief Taylor from Port Angeles. She heard what happened – what James did to you and Edward – and she came forward to give her side of the story."

"Her side?" I was starting to get anxious. It felt like the good old mac and cheese might make a reappearance. "What's her side?"

"She told us that James made threats against her family, threats that if she didn't help him, he would do something to her little sister. She insists she had no idea what he had planned, no idea he would go that far, that he would try to…hurt Edward that badly, or you."

"What did she think was going to happen?" Anger tightened my chest. "Did she think he was setting us up like that just so he and Edward could have a _chat_?"

"I don't know." Charlie's gaze was steady on mine. "She said she thought that James would confront Edward, maybe get into a fistfight. She said she did what James asked and left, hoping he'd leave her alone."

I thought about this for a while. I knew what James was capable of, and knew if he threatened my family, I wouldn't doubt that he meant it. "Do you believe her?" I finally asked.

He sighed, and nodded. "Yes. I do. She came forward and told us everything she knew voluntarily. She was still wrong – she should have reported James' threats to the police right away – but…yeah. I believe her."

Charlie was right – she should have gone right to the authorities, but I found I really couldn't blame her. I knew how scary James was, and if my dad wasn't Chief of Police, I couldn't say that I wouldn't have at least thought about doing the same thing.

"What's going to happen to her?"

"She'll probably get probation, or a suspended sentence as an accomplice."

I nodded and looked down at my hands. "What about James, Dad? What happened to him?"

Charlie watched me warily, and I fought to maintain a calm expression. My heart was pounding. I'd wondered, but I'd been too worried about Edward and too worried about my reaction.

"Bella…" he said slowly, his voice full of doubt and a little apprehension.

"No, it's okay – I'm okay. I just want to know." I took deep, even breaths.

"He's still here in the hospital," Charlie told me, gripping my hand as if that would keep me from flying out of my seat and going after James. "He's recovering after his surgery."

"His…" I swallowed. "Surgery."

"He lost a lot of blood, too," Charlie explained gently. "From the…from his wound. There was quite a bit of nerve damage to his shoulder, his arm…Are you sure you want to hear this, Bells?"

"Yes." I held on to his hand.

"He's going to recover, but they don't know how much use he'll have of his left arm." Charlie watched me carefully as I sat there, still as a stone.

I didn't know what to think. I was sad, mad, confused, glad, delighted, and horrified. He'd never be able to use his arm again…A slow smile started to creep across my mouth, but then I bit my lip and looked at Charlie as a thought occurred to me.

"They won't…Edward won't get in trouble for that, will he? I mean, he saved us – it was totally self-defense, the police know that, right?" I didn't want to believe that anyone could be punished for heroic deeds, but I knew it happened.

"No," Charlie rushed to assure me, leaning forward and taking my other hand. "No, Edward isn't in any trouble, not with the evidence, the restraining order, and your and the other girl's statements."

My body slumped down in the seat, relieved. "What's going to happen to James?"

"He'll stay here until he recovers, and then he'll be taken into custody. After that it will be up to the lawyers, but he's going to be prosecuted for what he did to you and Edward."

I shut my eyes and nodded. "Do Edward's mom and dad know?" I asked.

"Yeah." Charlie squeezed my hands and sat back in his seat.

I blew out a breath and just sat for a second. I had a ton of questions, but they could wait. Edward was upstairs, and I wanted to be there when he woke up again.

"Thanks, Dad." I gave him a smile. "It helps to know."

I knew he felt awkward about leaving me at the hospital, but I assured him I was fine and there was nowhere else I wanted to be. He left me at the elevator with a brief hug, and I pushed the button for Edward's floor, holding a bag of chips and an apple for Esme.

I got off the elevator and experienced a brief moment of confusion as I tried to orient myself in the ICU's lobby. I made my way down the hall and past the nurses' station, limping around to the wing that held Edward's room. I started down the hall and stopped abruptly when I saw Emmett's large figure being held by Rosalie against the wall. Esme had told me they were coming, but I didn't know they'd arrived. They stood a couple of rooms down from Edward's, and Emmett was hunched over Rosalie as she wrapped her slender arms around his shoulders. He was shaking, and I could hear muffled, choked sobs coming from him. I froze, my eyes wide, and frantically looked around for someplace to hide. Rosalie must have caught my movement because she looked up, over Emmett's bent shoulder, and leaned back slightly. She cupped his face in her hands and said something to him, and he spun to face me.

I shifted from foot to foot, uncertain of what I should do. I was sure he would be embarrassed being caught in such an emotional, private moment, but he rushed over and caught me up in his massive arms.

"Bella," he breathed, hugging me gently and holding me to his chest. My feet dangled off the ground and my brace bumped against his knee. "Thank God, Bella." He looked at me closely. "You're okay? Dad said you were, but…"

"I'm fine, Emmett." Tears filled my eyes, and I tried to wipe them away, but he still held me off the ground with my arms trapped to my sides. "It's good to see you guys."

"Put her down, Emmett," Rosalie admonished softly. "Don't break her other leg." She smiled and gave me a quick, careful hug after he set me down on the ground.

"I just…just stuck my head in his room and saw him," Emmett said in an uneven voice. "My God…"

"Is he awake?" I asked anxiously, glancing down at my phone to see if I'd missed a call from Esme somehow.

"No, he's still asleep." Emmett frowned. "Dad warned me, but…fuck."

I nodded in commiseration. I knew how that first sight of his still, broken body sent your heart plummeting down to your toes. I put my hand on Emmett's arm and he pulled me into another firm but gentle hug. He reached out and pulled Rosalie in, too, and we stood there in the hallway, clinging to each other. None of our eyes were completely dry when we pulled away.

"I'm so sorry, Bella." Emmett stared sadly into my eyes.

"Sorry?" I repeated, startled. "Sorry for what?"

"I wasn't here." His jaw clenched, and he shoved his hands into the pocket of the hoodie he wore. "Maybe if I had been…" his voice trailed off and he shrugged, then spun and walked stiffly down the hall, away from us, to stop and stare broodingly into Edward's room.

"Emmett…" I started after him but was stopped by Rosalie's hand on my arm.

"Let him be for a minute," she murmured.

"But, Rosalie, what the hell did he mean? He doesn't think he could have done anything about this, does he?" I frowned at her in confusion.

She sighed and leaned back against the wall, her eyes lingering on Emmett's tense form before meeting mine again. "Bella, you have to understand—Emmett sees himself as a protector. He's always been Edward's big brother, both physically and in age. And for all his tough-guy exterior, well…he's just a big old softie. He loves. He loves hard. And he thinks it's his responsibility to protect what he loves."

"But he couldn't have done anything about James Lucard," I whispered.

Emmett spun and marched back to us. "I could have taken care of him after Edward first ran into him in Port Angeles," he hissed, his face hard. I was almost scared of him, but I was reassured that I probably fell into those things he loved, and knew he would never hurt me. "Fuck, I knew I should have, but I thought the law would take care of him. But they didn't." He bared his teeth and seethed.

"They couldn't. The girl wouldn't press charges," I said softly.

"Yeah." He barked out a short, harsh laugh. "But I could have pressed something. I should have." His fists clenched and he turned back to face down the hall, toward his brother's room. "Then he wouldn't be in there all…broken and shit."

Rosalie reached out and took one of his big hands in hers and just held it. I took the other, and finally he relaxed, blowing out his breath. "It's just…I can't stand to see him like that and not be able to do anything." His eyes met Rosalie's and held. "Help him, you know?"

"I know," she said softly, and I slipped my hand out of his and left them alone.

Esme was napping in the lounger next to his bed, and I set the chips and apple on the bedside table for her. I pulled up a chair on the other side and took his cool hand in mine. I clasped it on top of the sheets and pressed my cheek to our entwined fingers. When I looked back up, his eyes were beautiful green slashes of color in his pale face.

"Hi," he whispered.

I smiled for the first time in almost a week, and it felt amazing.

"Hi."

* * *

**Next time, things are getting back to normal - Bella's back to having those thoughts again!**

**I wanted to molest him.**


	35. Chapter 34: Penalty Killing

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and characters. Everything else in this story is my own work.**

**Thanks to Sarahsumbrella and silentnc for beta-ing. Sarahsumbrella has the bestest comments and suggestions.**

**One more chapter to go after this...**

* * *

**CHAPTER 34: Penalty Killing**

I spent most of my weekend at the hospital, watching Edward doze. The time dragged interminably when he was asleep and went by much too quickly when he was awake. I reluctantly went back to school on Monday as there was no reason not to go other than I wanted to be at the hospital with Edward. I drove myself to school – thank goodness it was my left leg in the brace and not my right – and was instantly surrounded by Alice and Angela, Jasper and Ben. I felt empty, off-kilter, and like part of me was missing without Edward, despite their best efforts to distract me. I turned to talk to him a dozen times that day, expecting to see him walking next to me, waiting for him to pull open my locker and take my bag so I wouldn't have to carry it. The classes we had together were the worst. His chair was always empty, and that's when it really hit home. I fought back tears as I stared at his vacant stool next to mine in Chemistry and was only dimly aware of the sympathetic and worried looks I was getting from my classmates.

It was torture not being with him during the day, even though I knew he was spending most of his time asleep. I was there every day after school until Charlie came to drag me home. Alice and Jasper came to visit when he was finally moved from the ICU to a recovery room on the trauma floor. The time he was awake increased dramatically as the week progressed, but he was constantly exhausted. Part of it was from the medications he was on, but most of it was due to his body naturally healing. We were all glad to see his physical strength and mental sharpness steadily improve. He suffered from sudden, blinding headaches and episodes of sickening vertigo, but they were occurring with less frequency just like his doctors had promised.

Edward's biggest concern was, of course, getting back on the ice. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted from him when the doctors assured us that with the proper rehabilitation program, there was no reason to think that he couldn't play hockey at his former level. Once he heard that news, it was all he could think about. He was anxious and impatient to begin physical rehab and prove that he could still skate, to himself and the recruiters. It would be a long time before he was cleared for full contact and hitting drills, but there were a lot of other things he was determined to work on in the meantime.

"I think you should worry about getting to the bathroom on your own," I commented dryly, watching him attempt the ten foot walk, too impatient to wait for Emmett. I'd offered to help, but he was adamant I didn't need to see him pee. I'd helped him shower the day before – that was one job neither Dr. Cullen nor Emmett particularly cared to assist with, and he absolutely refused to let his mom wash him in any way, shape, or form. I'd stood on one foot outside the shower cubicle as he washed as much of himself as he could, helping with his back and his hair – and his feet – when he couldn't bend or stretch to reach. No one had mentioned it to Charlie, for which I was thankful.

"Ha ha," he said without humor, gritting his teeth and leaning heavily on the IV stand. One arm was clutched around his abdomen as he shuffled slowly, painfully, toward the bathroom. I gripped the armrests of the chair hard to prevent myself from flying to his side. It only made him crankier when I hovered.

He made it back to the bed, easing carefully onto it, exhaustion evident in every move. His hand reached for the overcrowded bedside table, searching for the breathing apparatus he was supposed to blow into to help strengthen his lungs. I moved it out of reach, and he glared at me.

I arched a brow. "I think you should catch your breath first, before trying to blow into that thing," I said mildly. "You won't be able to do much, and you'll just get frustrated."

"Thinking an awful lot today, aren't you?" he snapped, his body rigid, and then a gusty sigh escaped him as his tense form relaxed into the bed. He turned his head to me, sunlight from the window sparking in his green eyes. "I'm sorry, baby."

I pulled the chair I was sitting in closer toward him, awkwardly leaning forward and taking his hand. I examined his face in the clear light. It showed every bruise, bump, and cut in stark relief. It also showed his stress, tension, and worry. His physical wounds were healing well – the black circles under his eyes had faded to a sickly greenish-yellow, and the cut on his forehead and at the corner of his lip were getting smaller by the day. His hair stuck out in all directions like a wild bird's nest, and my eyes went unwillingly to the bare, shaved spot on the back of his head, marred in the center by a long row of neat, if gruesome, sutures. He noticed my gaze and carefully ran his hand through the strands.

"I'm going to have to cut it," he said softly, watching me.

"I know," I sighed, and, damn it, tears filled my eyes.

"It'll grow back, I promise," he reassured me, kissing my knuckles.

"I know," I repeated, reaching out with my other hand and cupping his cheek.

I was able to spend more time with him at the hospital after school and on the weekends as he continued to improve. We took short walks through the halls, venturing further and staying out for longer periods of time as he grew stronger and the pain from his injuries slowly lessened. During his third week in the hospital he started physical therapy. He'd recovered enough that he could start a mild form of exercise and strength training, while rebuilding his lung capacity. We were all aware of the sheer amount of work it would take to get back into shape so that he could play hockey again, but I had never met anyone as determined as Edward. When he really wanted something, he didn't let anything stand in his way. The collapsed lung concerned him, but it had healed well. He felt better when he did some research and learned that a number of professional athletes had collapsed lungs during their careers and went on to play with no ill effects. The broken ribs caused him untold amounts of pain, though, especially since he couldn't resist pushing his limits. It was just his nature. He started one of his infamous lists of exercises and training regimens that would help him regain his conditioning.

I came to visit him on the last day of school, after classes had ended. I had done fairly well on my final exams, considering all the stress and physical issues I'd been through in the past few weeks. It was nothing compared to what he had been – and still was – going through, so I didn't complain. I was excited to learn he had been doing so well that they were going to release him in the next day or two. He'd been working with the therapist assigned to him, spending as much time as the doctors – and his ribs – would allow down in the Physical Therapy area. I'd gone with him to his sessions on a number of occasions, so I found my way there with little difficulty. I pushed through the heavy door, nodding and saying hello to the other therapists. I was so happy that he would be coming home soon. I knew his recovery was going very well, but I couldn't completely let go of my anxiety until he was out of the hospital.

I froze at the sight of him, lying on the bright blue mats on the floor, working on his stretching exercises and arguing good-naturedly that he was ready for a more strenuous aerobic work-out. He must have sensed my presence, because his head turned toward me and he smiled in welcome.

I stared.

He'd cut his hair. It was short, cropped close to his head in thick auburn bristles. My hand went unconsciously to my mouth as I took in how different he looked. It didn't look bad, not at all – quite the opposite, in fact. The short cut showed off the exquisite planes of his face, the amazing angle of his jaw, and made his green eyes bigger and more prominent. He looked youthful and innocent, like the seventeen year old boy that he was. It was so…different. I wanted to molest him.

Some of my reaction must have shown on my face, because his eyes widened and his hand shot to his hair, ready to tangle in it where it usually draped over his forehead as was his habit. There were no long, unruly strands, though, and he settled for rubbing through it with a soft scratching sound. The therapist helped him to his feet, and he made his way over to me. Someone not familiar with his usual powerful grace wouldn't recognize the effort it took to keep his gait sure and steady.

"Hey." His hand went to his hair again, before pausing and falling to his side. I studied him. I could still see the spot on the back of his head where he'd been struck, could see the line of stitches, but the fact that the area had been surgically shaved down to his scalp was much less noticeable with the shorter all-around cut. His face was a little scruffy, and his whiskers tickled my lips as I leaned up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I hear they're going to let you out of here soon."

He flashed his crooked smile. "Yeah, I can't wait." He turned with a wry grimace to the therapist. "No offense."

"None taken. You all set for today?"

"Yeah." Edward stuck his hand out to shake and they grinned at each other. "Thanks."

He sent us off with a wave, and Edward slung an arm around my waist as we walked to the elevators at a much slower pace than I was used to. He was leaning on me a little, and I could tell he was weak, tired, and frustrated with it all.

"Is your physical therapy going well?" I asked curiously. I knew I was amazed, and even his dad was surprised, that he was getting around so well after his injuries.

"It's going okay," he said, leaning back against the wall of the elevator after we entered. I pressed the button and it began to rise. "Slow." He tipped his head at me with a quirk of his mouth. He was doing better than anyone expected him to, except himself. He wasn't used to his body not being able to do what he asked of it instantly, effortlessly, and well.

"Did you work on the beam today?" I asked hesitantly, not knowing if it was a good idea. His mental faculties appeared to be unaffected, and most of his physical recovery was better than expected, but his balance seemed to be a little…off. It wouldn't have been that big of a concern, except that he was worried about how it would affect his skating. He'd been working with a balance beam set on the floor.

He jerked his eyes away from me and shut them, tilting his head back and resting it against the wall. _Uh-oh_. "Yeah," he finally breathed. "It's…about the same."

I tentatively reached out and touched his arm. "It's okay, Edward. It's still so soon. You've been doing so well. I'm sure once you get home it will be even better."

Emmett had gone back to California, but had promised to return to help Edward with a workout program over the summer before he had to report to training camp – he had been selected in the first round of the NFL draft a couple of weeks before the attack. Emmett had been doing a lot of research, and Dr. Cullen had hired one of the top sports rehabilitators in the Pacific Northwest to assist Edward in recovering his strength and conditioning. The workout room on Emmett's floor of the house was better equipped than most rehab facilities.

I knew he was worried that his spot on the Dartmouth hockey team might be in jeopardy if he couldn't regain his former level of play before next year. He already knew there was no way he'd be playing competitively for the high school season his senior year. I knew this had been quite a setback for him. He was sorely disappointed he'd miss playing with his friends and teammates his last year in Forks. He had really been looking forward to taking his place as the team captain, as would have been his right as a senior. I knew how much this bothered him, even though he tried not to let it show – he was trying to be positive and thankful he could play again at all. I didn't feel right asking for any more favors, but I hoped with all my heart that he would be able to join the Dartmouth team with no noticeable ill effects come next year. I had no idea how long it would take to get him back to the same level of fitness and ability he was at before the attack, but if it was humanly possible, Edward would do it.

He sighed, bringing his head down to look at me as he arched a brow. "So, you haven't said anything about the hair."

It was an obvious subject change, but I let it pass. I studied his shorn head, reaching a hand out to touch. He obediently lowered it, and my fingertips rubbed through the thick, short strands to find his scalp. He purred, pushing the curve of his skull more firmly into my palm. Tears welled in my eyes as I felt the thick bone that protected him, and the edge of the wound that had almost taken him from me.

"I like it," I told him softly, and his eyes shot to mine. I obviously wasn't doing a very good job at guarding my emotions. "I really do." I sniffed as those traitorous tears threatened, and he stared at me, horrified. His hand went up to scrub at his head.

"It'll grow back, Bella, I told you. It grows so fast. It'll be long again before you know it—"

"Shh," I told him, sliding my hand around the back of his neck and pulling him down to me. I carefully, deliberately, placed my lips against the ugly wound just above and behind his ear. Pulling back, I looked into his green eyes. "Shh. I don't care about your hair."

"Oh." His eyes were still tense and worried. He tried to joke. "Who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?"

I attempted a smile, but it wobbled precariously. He frowned, wrapping his long arms around my waist and pulling me against him.

"Shh." It was his turn to tell me. I hugged him back, mindful of his sore ribs, but another wave of emotion swamped me when I felt how thin he had gotten. I pressed my face into his chest, breathing his scent and feeling the warmth of his body through the cotton of his T-shirt.

His hands came up to cup my cheeks, and he tilted my head back. He was still frowning, but he slowly lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me. It was the first real kiss we'd shared since the meadow, and my entire body sang at the sweet taste of his warm, wet tongue at the seam of my lips. I opened eagerly and took him in, pressing gently against him.

The elevator opened with a "ping," but we didn't notice until there was a loud cough as people moved hesitantly through the door. I pulled away slowly, curtaining my red face with my hair, and he offered an apologetic smile to whoever had just entered the elevator. He took my hand firmly in his as we stepped out and walked down the hall to his room.

He was discharged from the hospital two days later. We were all so excited to have him home. It felt like closure, like we could all start to put the past couple of months behind us and get back to our normal lives. His mom and dad tried to convince him to stay on the main level of the house, in Dr. Cullen's study or even on the sofa, but he insisted on his room, three flights of stairs above us.

"I want my own bed," he insisted. "Plus, the climbing will be good exercise."

He did in fact make it up to his room under his own power, but collapsed heavily onto his bed with a groan of both exhaustion and pleasure. "I didn't think I'd ever be back here," he sighed, throwing his arms out and laying spread-eagle on the bed.

I bit my lip, telling myself I would not cry, not on this happy occasion of having him home. Despite my best intentions, the image of him lying on the side of the road, blood pooling around his head, and me crouching protectively over him as James approached, filled my mind. There had been a long stretch of time where I thought that we'd never be back here, either. He noticed my stilted silence and turned his head to look at me.

"Hey," he murmured softly. "Come here."

He slid over a few inches, and I crawled to him, curling up against his side and letting a wave of overwhelming relief fill me. He turned on his side, gingerly settling his arm around me, mindful of his still sore ribs. His fingers threaded through my hair as his eyes searched each individual feature on my face.

"I love you," he said, low and quiet. "I'm sorry, Bella."

He'd been particularly upset lately, after having talked to Charlie and heard the entire version of events that had happened the night James attacked us. Despite my promise that I would tell him, I just couldn't. I couldn't relive those moments again, not out loud, not yet. He hadn't pressed me, but he wanted to know what had happened that night. I hoped that he would let it drop – I thought it would be best if he had no memory of those horrific events. He was insistent, though; he wanted to know what happened. I wondered if he felt that way now, knowing the full story, or if it would have been better to leave him in oblivion. He'd been terribly upset, and I knew he was blaming himself for any hurt I'd experienced at James' hand. I couldn't get him to understand that the physical hurt was nothing – _nothing_ – compared to what I'd gone through thinking he might not recover from his injuries. I was seeing a therapist, the same therapist he had been seeing on and off since he had initially run into James two years ago. We were working through our issues surrounding James Lucard – my nightmares and fears, and his guilt.

James had been released from the hospital a couple of weeks earlier and was immediately taken into custody. Charlie had been staying on top of the case and its developments, even though he wasn't involved in the investigation himself. The Clallam County Prosecutor had stuck a deal with Lucard and his lawyers that would commit him to a criminal psychiatric hospital. Edward was furious upon hearing this, and I was almost physically ill to think he wouldn't spend any time in jail for what he had done to us, until Charlie sat us down and explained the details. If James was sentenced in court to prison, there would be a finite amount of time he would spend behind bars. He could get out early, he could be paroled, but there would undeniably be a set time he would be incarcerated. By committing him to a psychiatric institution, he would not be released until it was determined he was no longer a threat to society. He could be there for the rest of his life. I was still angry – and so was Edward – but after we had time to think about it and talk it over with each other, I knew it was the better sentence. He couldn't hurt anyone else – no other unsuspecting person would ever be subjected to his violence ever again. It was something I decided I could live with, and eventually Edward came to feel the same way.

"I'm sorry, too," I finally told him. "But we'll get through this, Edward. We'll get through it, move on, and get on with our lives, just like we planned. Remember?"

He smiled, a small one, but a smile nonetheless. "That I do remember," he whispered, shifting closer to me, nuzzling under my jaw. "Dartmouth – for both of us. And asking you right the first time."

I sighed happily, grateful for the quirk of nature that blacked out the most horrible events of that night for him, but left the most beautiful part clear and untainted in his mind. I would gladly struggle with nightmares, bear that burden for the rest of my life for both of us, if that was the price to be paid for his memories of our time in the meadow.

He shifted closer, his green eyes on mine. He kissed me, long and slow, deep and thorough. I sighed as his tongue slipped warm and wet across mine, his teeth scraped and gently bit. His hand came up between us to cover my breast.

I pulled back reluctantly. "I don't think that's such a good idea," I told him, frowning and biting my lip. I eyed his chest and stomach, currently covered by his T-shirt, but I knew what the incision from the surgery and the bruising that still lingered from his broken ribs looked like underneath. It wasn't pretty.

"I know," he admitted softly, his eyes wide and beseeching. "But…I just have to. I have to know, to feel…I can't explain. Please?"

I examined his tense, worried face. "Are you sure?" I asked doubtfully. "Edward…"

"Please, Bella," he asked again. "I just…I need you."

"I don't want to hurt you." I really didn't, and I knew this was a terrible idea, but the look on his face…the tone in his voice…this was about more than the act itself. He wasn't asking me for just sex.

"You won't. We'll be careful."

I slowly brought my hand over his hip to cover the bulge in the cotton shorts he was wearing. His features relaxed infinitesimally and he rubbed my knee, letting his fingers trail up the inside of my thigh. He reached my waist and his fingers fumbled with the button on my jeans.

"Let me," I told him. I stood and went over to the door, shutting and locking it. I knew his parents were downstairs somewhere, but I was sure they wouldn't be coming up here anytime soon. I walked back to where he lay on the bed, making quick work of the fastenings of my jeans. I bent to push them off my legs and his eyes followed every movement. "You just lay there and let me handle this." I'd gotten a smaller brace for my ankle after my recheck appointment, and I removed that as well.

"Cool." He waggled his eyebrows and grinned teasingly. I walked gingerly over to the nightstand and started to pull open the drawer. I paused, looking over at him.

"Condom?" I asked softly, and his eyes went heavy and dark as the memory of the last time we'd made love – and didn't use one – ran through his mind.

"No," he answered just as softly, his voice a deep, low rasp. "Just you and me."

I hooked my fingers in the waistband of my panties, pulling them off and swinging them around my finger as I took a couple of steps toward him. He groaned, his hands going to the elastic waist of the shorts he wore.

"Ah-ah," I teased, waving my finger at him and crawling across the bed to his prone form. "I said let me handle this."

He put his hands behind his head and smirked at me. "Handle away."

I knelt beside him and reached out to grab the hem of the shorts. I pulled, tugging them from his hips and down his long legs. He groaned, and I lifted my attention to his face. He had gone still and intense, all teasing gone as he watched me rub my palms up his thighs and over his boxer briefs, my fingers wrapping firmly around his erection. He groaned again, and his eyes drifted shut as my fingers dipped to find hard, hot, bare skin. I shifted to kneel between his legs, pulling on his briefs until he was finally exposed to me from the waist down, his erection resting long and hard against his abdomen. I could see the very lower portion of his incision and I deliberately looked away, taking him once again in my hand and smoothing my palm down his length.

His hips twitched. "Oh, God…feels so good," he moaned. "Bella."

I leaned forward, and his eyes blinked open, focusing on mine. I didn't look away as I slowly opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out, drifting forward until I could smell the tangy, soapy, musky scent of him. I took the head of his twitching shaft between my lips.

"_Fu-uck_," he breathed, raising his knees so that his feet rested flat on the mattress and pushing up into my mouth.

I hummed in pleasure at the feel of him nudging the back of my throat, and he gasped again. I licked and sucked and caressed and nipped until his hands scrabbled at his sides and tugged on my hair. "Bella," he moaned, twitching slightly. "In you. Now. I need to be inside you."

I sat up and pulled my shirt over my head, tossing it on the floor. He watched intently as I shook out my hair, leaning forward to run my hands along the skin of his chest under his shirt, being careful to avoid his incision. He reached up and touched my breasts with his fingertips, stroking and pressing, cupping them and rubbing his thumbs over my nipples. I inched forward, carefully throwing one leg over his hips. I settled my knees on either side and sat up, trying not to jostle him or put pressure on his stomach or ribs – or my ankle. We really were a pair.

"Are you sure?" I whispered one last time as I positioned him at my entrance, wetting him with the moisture from my body, holding myself over him.

"Yes," he hissed between his teeth, his hands rubbing convulsively on my thighs as he tried not to lift his upper body toward me. "Jesus, Bella. Please."

I slowly lowered my hips, impaling myself, feeling him spread and fill me. He arched, unable to control the pleasure, gasping and laughing shakily. I froze, and his hands tugged at my upper thighs.

"No, no, don't stop. It's okay," he gritted, his head thrown back, the muscles and tendons in his neck tense and straining.

I raised and lowered myself cautiously, and then with more confidence as I grew slicker and the movement got easier. His grunts and groans and cries of pleasure convinced me I wasn't doing irreparable harm by indulging his need, and he came hard with a forlorn, guttural sob, shuddering and shaking beneath me. I stayed where I was until he softened inside me, leaning forward slightly and stroking his closed eyelids and wet cheeks, knowing mine were wet, too. Eventually I swung my leg over him to curl against his side, holding him as tightly as I dared with his healing ribs.

Finally, his hand came up to rub his nose and he turned his head to look at me ruefully. "I'm sorry," he whispered. I pressed a soft, chaste kiss to his mouth. "That wasn't much fun for you."

I shook my head and kissed him again. "No, don't worry. That was all for you. Better?"

He nodded, gazing into my eyes before sighing and carefully lifting his arm to snuggle me closer to his side. "Yeah. I don't know… I just needed to know I still could." One eye opened to look down at me in chagrined amusement before drifting closed again. "I can't tell you how much better I feel. I love you."

"Good." I stroked his collarbone. "Glad I could help. Anytime, you know?" I reached over and flipped the corner of the comforter over our bare lower bodies. "I love you, too. I'm so glad you're home."

A smile ghosted along the curve of his lips and he squeezed me gently. His breathing gradually settled into the even rhythm of sleep. My arm crept across his shoulders and I clung to him, burying my face in his neck, inhaling his scent and fighting back tears. When I had myself under control, I placed my head on his chest, pressing my ear over his heart, and felt every beat deep inside me. I raised my eyes to his face and watched him sleep, marveling at how different this felt from the times I had stood vigil doing the same thing in the hospital. He was here, he was in my arms, and he was with me. I swore I would never ask for anything more.

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**Ah, Bella... :)**

**He was big, hot, sweaty, and male, and it made me feel delicate, hot, thrilled, and feminine.**


	36. Chapter 35: Game On

**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and characters. The rest here is mine.**

**Sarahsumbrella and silentnc stuck with me through another story - ladies, I give you my sincere appreciation for all of your time and expertise. Sarah, your comments and suggestions made this a better story - never worry about making them!**

**A lot of people have asked if there will be more - a sequel, outtakes, etc. There may be more to tell here...so the only answer I can give right now is possibly. I'm just not sure what form it will take, or when. I've got a lot of other ideas rolling around in my head and on my computer, so we'll see. You can keep track of what's going on through the Twilighted thread for the story or Twitter.**

**I can't tell you how much it means to me to know you love these two as much as I do. This has been an amazing experience - and thank you doesn't seem enough so say to everyone who read, alerted, reviewed, sent messages, recommended, and encouraged along the way. But...thank you.**

* * *

**CHAPTER 35: Game On**

Edward had made arrangements to make up his finals a few weeks into the summer, after he had recuperated enough both physically and mentally and had a chance to review his last semester courses. It turned out I had done reasonably well on my finals despite everything that had happened. I figured part was due to the fact we had been so close to the end of the school year, and the rest – I was sure – was because my teachers took a kind view of my final essays and tests. We both had taken the ACT and SAT tests earlier in the year, so we didn't have to worry about making those up later. We spent many afternoons going over all of the information he had collected on Dartmouth and the surrounding area, and I discovered he had an entire file devoted to financial aid for me. There were quite a few intriguing possibilities, and I promised to look into them with him over the summer, before we had to get our applications in for an early decision in the fall. I wasn't going to argue with him about any of it – money, location, arrangements – as the last couple of months had taught me a valuable lesson. If there was any way for us to be together in Hanover, I was going to grab it with both hands.

Edward was…driven. He pushed himself right to the edge and balanced precariously along it, determined to recover his previous physical condition. He was careful not to cause a setback in his recovery, but he spent countless hours slowly building his strength and endurance. He had meticulous plans for regaining the weight and muscle mass he had lost, as well as cross-training exercises that he had researched that would help him. He wasn't able to do much at first, but as the weeks passed he grew more confident and it was evident that his body was responding. He had been in peak physical condition before the attack, his body honed to a point most people never saw in their lifetime, and that made it possible for him to recover at a phenomenal rate.

He had reluctantly accepted the fact he wouldn't be ready to play competitively with the high school team in the fall, but he was unwavering in his objective to skate and practice with them and be ready for league play next winter. I knew his intentions were to participate in the NHL Scouting Combine and then the Entry Draft next June, but his ultimate goal was to regain his physical conditioning so that he could play with the Dartmouth team next fall. He was really worried about them rescinding the offer they had been ready to make him before the attack. The scouts and other representatives from the university had been very supportive and assured him they were still very interested despite any physical setbacks he was currently experiencing, but he would probably have to try out for the team now, instead of automatically being offered a spot. I could tell this was yet another huge disappointment, but he reacted in typical Edward fashion. He became even more determined to make it happen.

He worked relentlessly and without complaint with Emmett, who had come home expressly for that purpose until he had to leave for training camp. I spent many, many hours surreptitiously watching the two of them in their workout clothes, sweaty and pumped and…Gah. I spent so many hours over the next few weeks watching them train, in fact, that Edward convinced me to give it a half-hearted try for the first time in my life. I was delighted to see that I was beginning to get the sleek, toned muscles to prove it. His dad hired a physical therapist, one that specialized in rehabilitating professional athletes, and Edward definitely benefitted from his expertise.

Edward's first excursion out onto the ice since the attack was an anxious mess. It was a couple of weeks after his eighteenth birthday, and a little more than two months after the attack. He didn't want anyone to go with him, mostly for fear of failure. His mom, dad, and Emmett wanted to be there to reassure themselves he really was well on his way to recovery. He finally agreed to let me come along, but adamantly refused the others. I didn't tell him they were going to come anyway.

He carried his giant bag, not quite as full or as heavy as it usually was, but it had the necessary equipment in it for a light practice. I left him outside the locker room with a lingering kiss, and went to sit on the home team bench. I debated about calling out to Emmett – I could see him, and his mom and dad, occasionally appearing in the corridor from the lobby. The ice rink wasn't as busy during the summer months, and there weren't enough people here today that they could hide in the stands. There were a few people out on the ice, men with light pads and sticks lazily slapping pucks around. I heard Edward clumping down the corridor connecting the locker room to the ice, and turned my head to see him striding toward me with the rocking, sure gait of someone who was comfortable walking on razor thin blades.

"It feels good to have them on again," he said with a smile, bending down to check his laces. He'd pulled on his own light pads and dark jersey, and had his helmet tucked under his arm. He thrust it on his head, over his wildly rumpled hair – it was in the in-between growth stage that made him look like a frantic hedgehog – fastening the chin-strap as he took a deep breath. He pushed open the door in the boards and stood there, staring out onto the ice, watching the other guys skate, scrap, and pass pucks.

"Here goes nothin'," he murmured, and jumped out onto the ice.

My heart leapt up into my throat as he wobbled and took a couple of double steps, listing ever-so-slightly to one side. He paused, shaking his head, and began pushing across the ice in slow, powerful glides. He circled the arena twice before skating back to where I stood, leaning over the rail and gesturing for me to hand him his stick. I did, watching his face closely, and he smiled one of his sweet, happy smiles. He skated backward to the center of the rink and scooped up a loose, abandoned puck. He flipped it on the blade of his stick, expertly tossing it around before dropping it back on the ice and looking toward the net. The other players stopped to watch him – everyone knew who he was and what was happening. Forks was a small town after all. He nodded briefly and took a deep breath that lifted his shoulders. He exhaled, bracing his feet apart and swinging his stick back before releasing a stinging slap-shot that rang the pipe in the back of the net.

Everyone cheered. Emmett, Carlisle, and Esme made no secret of their presence now as they clapped and whistled. Edward just grinned and shook his head as skated back to me, sending up a heavy plume of ice when he slid to a stop.

"How do you feel?" I asked. Anxiety, hope, and concern made me feel slightly ill.

His green eyes gleamed at me. "Good." He grimaced. "A little twinge, you know, twisting for the shot." He demonstrated by carefully rotating his torso one way and then the other. "But…good. Really good. Hopefully I can start some workouts on the ice." He shook his head. "I'm going to need it."

I exhaled a breath in relief. He slipped the guard back in his mouth, giving me a wink as he turned to skate back out onto the ice. He lifted his hand and ducked his head in acknowledgement of his family – Emmett was now leaning over the boards and pounding on them enthusiastically. I watched his tall, straight, strong form as he scrimmaged a little with the other guys out on the ice as I made my way over to his mom and dad. Esme smiled and wrapped her arm around my shoulders, hugging me tight as we watched him. Her eyes were suspiciously moist.

"Carlisle, don't let him overdo," she murmured worriedly.

He gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze and bent down to kiss her forehead. The three of us just stood there watching him skate and jostle good-naturedly with the other guys on the ice while Emmett shouted encouragement and insults.

"He's fine," Dr. Cullen responded softly. "He's fine."

It was obvious he was skating much slower and more deliberately than was normal for him, but he was skating nonetheless. After a while he began coughing a little, and Esme stiffened, worried about his lungs. We watched as Edward said something to the guys, and they all took a turn talking to him briefly and slapping him on the back. He skated back to the bench, giving them a desultory wave as he went. I smiled at his mom and squeezed her hands in happiness and reassurance before going back to where he waited. He removed his mouth guard and took off his helmet, running his hand through his wet shock of hair. It was almost long enough now to stand on end.

"So…" I began, examining his face carefully. He looked a little tired. He was breathing heavier than usual, but his cheeks were flushed with healthy exertion and his eyes were glowing.

"Felt great," he panted, leaning on his stick. "I'm a little sore and more out-of-breath than I want to be, but…it felt great." He grinned, a full-on, beaming Edward grin, and I wanted to take him back into the locker room and jump him.

"Good." I smiled a little tremulously, and he leaned down to give me a wet, smacking kiss.

"I'm gonna go change." He cast his eyes at his family standing across the rink. "You can tell them I'm fine."

"They were worried about you," I said by way of explanation.

"I know." The smile still lingered on his full lips, and for some reason my eyes were glued to them. "I was worried about me, too. But I think it's going to be okay."

"Good," I repeated, my gaze still locked on his mouth, and he deliberately licked his lips, the little shit. I jerked my eyes to his and saw that he was looking at me in amusement and desire.

"Stop it," he said softly. "Go. I'll be out as soon as I change."

I nodded, turning to walk back to his family. He was right behind me, and took my elbow when we reached the dark corridor leading to the locker room. He pushed me back against the wall where it was dark, cool, and private. I paused, looking at him quizzically, and he raised his hand to curl it around my neck. With his skates on, he towered over me even more than usual, and I tried to repress an excited little shiver as he gazed down at me. He was big, hot, sweaty, and male, and it made me feel delicate, hot, thrilled, and feminine.

"I love you," he said softly. "And everything we talked about it the meadow? It's going to happen, Bella. I'm going to make sure of it."

I felt happy tears fill my eyes as I gazed at the beautiful boy that was my future. We were young, and we'd learned the hard way that nothing in this life was certain, but there was no doubt in my mind we had something very special together. It was worth fighting for. I was just as determined as he was to make sure the promises we made to each other in the meadow came true. I realized he was renewing his declaration in the middle of a dim ice arena, the smell of sweat and exertion surrounding us, rancorous calls and shouts swirling through the air, but I wouldn't have it any other way. It was so different from our time in the meadow, but the two situations balanced what we were perfectly. My heart swelled with love, hope, and happiness.

"I love you," I told him, kissing him and putting my heart, my trust, and my future in his hands. "You can be sure of that."

**-THE END -**

* * *

**And they live happily ever after. :)**


End file.
